#your response was so interesting! especially since your tastes run counter to mine
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k--havok · 5 months ago
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Oh my gosh it is so much fun to hear when people have strong and interesting opinions about a topic I originally found quite mild! I love it!
I do want to say I also read critically! I actually was talking with someone the other week how I often will finish a book series or book I really enjoyed and will immediately reread it after closing it so I can go back and figure out everything I loved about it and break down the plot and craft that had me in such a chokehold.
And I tend to start getting detailed too. Before I had a kindle and could highlight things I would dog-ear and write in some of my books (yes yes I know I am FULL of controversy here too lol!) I would reread the same sentences, scenes, chapters, all of it over and over and over again to break down what I loved about these things so much. (and I do mean OBSESS over it.
And I still HATE line editing. Specifically.
Editing software, is like everything else, a tool. Like spellcheck, which is now baked into pretty much everything unless you turn it off (and I have met writers against using spellcheck!) or the thesaurus and dictionary. Or software that tackles grammar rules as, let's be real, grammar is HARD even for native english speakers. And, if we talk about publishing, software that also auto-formats your manuscript for either querying purposes or self-pub purposes.
I always find it interesting where people draw the line in terms of what tools they are comfortable with. And, like you said, sometimes its based on where our enjoyment comes from. I don't despise editing as much as I use to. I used to never reread or edit any of my writing, not even to catch mistakes, because I was so insecure in it.
I don't mind doing full rewrites. I also don't mind content editing; going back and adding or taking away paragraphs, rephrasing entire scenes, rearranging chapters, etc. I just hate line editing; going through and correcting grammar, rewording sentences slightly even if the meaning and what I am trying to convey stays the same, and doing those minor edits. Its dull to me.
Sure they add up over time. And I am always happy once I have a finished product I like. But I also only have so much time, motivation, and energy in one day. For me, using editing software to find weirdly worded sentences, passive voice, run-on sentences, and bad grammar saves me a LOT of time. Just as I would rather use a thesaurus to find a specific word rather than just sit and think about it forever. Or use spellcheck to fix spelling mistakes rather than grab a dictionary, find the word, and respell it.
I also find it interesting that this is the second or third time I've heard of editing software burying your own writing voice. Just as you can click "ignore" when spellcheck comes up to tell you a fantasy-esque name is spelled wrong... you can ignore or reword suggestions given to you as well. Sometimes I want a sentence to be passive. Sometimes "said softly" is what I mean and the vibe I am trying to convey, not "whispers" or "murmurs." You can always ignore suggestions you do not like, or take them and reword them to better match your own writing style and flow. I very rarely go with the exact sentence offered to me; I usually go back and tweak it a little bit.
The software is an algorithm and is doing what is programmed to do. But its the human behind the software, making those decisions, that ultimately matters and is writing the story. You have the choice in the matter. I find it interesting that when I say I like to use editing software, the knee-jerk reaction is that I reword every sentence it says I need to with no thought or input. Not at all! Just as I ignore spellcheck when it says my own damn last name is spelled wrong, I ignore suggestions I don't like just as often. I love starting sentences with -ing verbs. Adverbs can be great. I use exclamations!!! Often!!! and slang? oh lordy lordy lordy my normal day is made up of 80% slang and it ends up in my writing all the time. (but sometimes I do need to edit it out. I'm from the southern US and as it turns out sometimes it makes no sense for certain characters to use the same slang; especially if they're from Northern US states or not in our world at all).
I also want to say that those people who made fun of your English? Assholes! What the genuine fuck. God I hate people LMAO sorry sorry I just canNOT stand people like that. Everyone has to start somewhere. I barely know fucking english as my grammar SUCKS so the fact there are people who know more than 1 language is amazing to me. Blows my mind. Genuinely.
I do find it interesting how writing anxiety shows up differently for everyone! In the technical non-fiction writing world, I always fret if I sound too professional or too personal. It's hard to balance when you're not sure (it also doesn't help that in the medical field, what you write can be a legal document and put in medical records haha). In creative writing, my insecurities are much different and usually borne from grammar mistakes or conveying what I am trying to describe as sometimes? it's absolute gibberish that even my loved ones who know me and my brain well cannot comprehend.
There are so many different types and sides to editing work. And, at the end of the day, editing IS writing. Even if we differ editing from putting words on a blank page, it is still writing, and different people get different amounts of enjoyment from it. Everyone is different, everyone's workflow is different, and I think its a beautiful thing. If everyone worked and wrote the same way, reading and writing would both be quite boring.
So, I actually am curious about this.
I use quite a few different programs for editing my work, specifically I prefer using ProWritingAid but have also used Grammerly in the past too before I wanted something with more features and specialized.
Both ProWritingAid, Grammerly, and other editing software often have features that can reword sentences for you for numerous reasons, such as getting rid of a "passive voice," for clarity, or just to make it sound better.
I'm not entirely sure what sort of program is running to do this. Is it AI based? Perhaps. Or maybe an algorithm of some kind? I am not sure. I know very little about software.
Personally, I find it really helpful and it speeds up the line editing, which I hate doing. Content editing and rewriting? Fine. LINE EDITING? Ugh.
But what is everyone else's opinion on this?
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drarrily-we-row-along · 4 years ago
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Day 54: There Was Only One Bed
The case had been absolutely brutal.
Draco was completely exhausted, every muscle in his body ached, and it felt like every step might be his last before he simply passed out and fell asleep on the ground. And he was still so bloody cold, there weren't enough warming charms in the world to help him get warm.
Trudging along beside him, his feet dragging across the ground, he knew that Harry must be feeling the same. "The hotel's just up ahead," Harry murmured. "I can't wait to get a nice hot shower and then sleep for the next eight to ten hours."
He nodded in agreement, by morning the DMLE would be able to get a portkey to them so they could get back home, for now the room they were providing at the local muggle hotel would have to suffice.
The girl at the check in counter in the lobby was far too cheerful for Draco's taste, chattering away about the festival that was coming to town tomorrow and the weather (the weather of all things). Harry didn't help with his polite responses and his bloody adorable smiles.
It felt like an eternity but they finally made it upstairs and stumbled through the door only for both of them to draw up short.
"There's only one bed," Harry said.
"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, Potter," Draco drawled, quietly panicking.
After a beat Harry suggested, "Why don't you go shower and I'll check in with the desk about it."
Draco looked over at him, "Are you sure? You're the one who got dunked into that icy water."
Harry nodded, "Your lips are starting to turn blue."
He rolled his eyes but gave Harry a little smile, "Thanks, savior."
"Fuck off," Harry laughed. "I'll be back," he added as he headed out of the room.
(Read more below the cut)
Draco turned the water as hot as it would go and climbed in under the spray, his body shivering as he slowly warmed up. By the time he got out and wrapped himself in a fluffy bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the door, Harry had returned. He'd stripped out of his wet clothes and put on the other bathrobe and was sitting at the desk, working on their report.
"What was the verdict?" Draco asked.
Harry turned and looked over at his shoulder, his eyes sliding over Draco's body covered only in a bathrobe and making Draco feel warm all over before he reminded himself that they were professionals. The other man couldn't possibly be interested in him like that, he chastised himself. He needed to get his head out of the clouds before he ruined everything.
"This is literally the only room left in the hotel," Harry said. "It's a queen size bed, though," he said with a little shrug, "We should be okay, right?" he asked, voice soft and strangely vulnerable.
Draco cleared his throat and put on his usual masks, the ones that kept anything more than friendship hidden, "Oh, I suppose," he replied and Harry gave him a relieved little smile. "As long as you promise not to steal all of the blankets."
"Promise," Harry replied, crossing a finger over his heart in a gesture that was decidedly not adorable.
Draco nudged him up from the chair, "Go shower, I'll finish these."
Harry nodded and rose, Draco watched his retreating form until he disappeared from sight. Then he turned to the reports Harry had started and picked up where he'd left off, steadfastly not thinking about Harry's naked body just on the other side of the door.
When he came back out, his long curly hair was hanging loose around his shoulders, weighed down by the water. He didn't let himself stare, didn't let himself wonder what it would be like to wrap his fingers through his hair and cover Harry's mouth with his own.
"I have some extra sweatpants," Harry said, completely oblivious to the way Draco was slowly dying inside, as he sorted through the muggle jacket he'd been wearing for the case and pulled out a little pouch. He reached inside, his arm disappearing to his elbow.
"Merlin," Draco said, watching him dig around in the bag, "Hermione's spellwork is really second to none."
Harry grinned at him over his shoulder as he dug deeper, "Right? Here," he said tossing a pair a of navy sweatpants at Draco, "These have a tie at the waist so at least they have a chance at staying up around your skinny body," he added before tossing him a DMLE t-shirt that was soft from all of the times it had been worn before.
"Thanks," Draco murmured, throat thick with the intimacy of wearing his clothes. He was fairly certain he was never going to recover from this.
"No problem," Harry replied, his dimple flashing at him.
Without another word, Draco headed back to the bathroom to change and to get a hold on his emotions because honestly, this was all feeling a bit too domestic and he needed to get a grip before he said or did something stupid.
When he came out, Harry was standing in just a pair of grey sweatpants, still digging around in the bag.
Draco's jaw literally dropped, it should be illegal for the other man to wear grey sweatpants, especially without anything else underneath. Lust spiked hot through Draco's body and his fingers itched to touch.
Harry turned to look at him, "I cannot find another tshirt in here," he said.
Draco tried to click his jaw closed and get the fucking blush that felt like it was covering his entire body under control before Harry noticed. "Sorry?" he managed.
"I can't find another tshirt." He repeated as he scratched the back of his neck, "Is it going to bother you if I sleep without one?"
Yes! Draco wanted to scream, Circe, yes. How was he meant to sleep when all of that skin and those muscles were right there?
"Draco?"
"Do you want this one?" he asked, indicating the one he was wearing.
Harry shook his head, "You get colder than I do," he said. "I run hot."
Yes, you do, Draco thought because Merlin, Harry was attractive.
"What?" Harry asked.
"What?" he replied.
"What did you say?"
Panic, absolute panic, flooded his mind when he realized he must have said that bit aloud, "Nothing," he said. "Just yes, you do run warmer than I do."
"So, it's okay for me to just sleep without a shirt?" Harry asked, sounding confused and uncertain and if the floor could just open up and swallow Draco whole, that would probably be preferable to this.
"Merlin," he said. "Sorry. No, it's fine, of course it's fine. I'm just exhausted."
Harry hummed sympathetically, "Me too." He nodded to the papers on the desk, "these can wait until tomorrow."
"Great. Bed then?" Draco asked.
"Yeah," Harry replied as he tossed the bag onto the pile of his clothes in the chair. He climbed under the covers on the right side of the bed and let out a low moan as his body sank into the mattress, "Godric, that feels good."
It was karma. It had to be, Draco was paying for every single misdeed that he'd ever committed.
"What?" Harry asked, sitting up on his elbows in bed to look at Draco, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
Harry's brow furrowed, "I don't know. What's bothering you?"
"Aren't you going to do something with your hair?" he blurted because it was the first thing that came to mind.
"My hair?"
He nodded, "Doesn't it dry funny if it's wet when you go to sleep? Do you ever, I don't know, braid it or something?" That seemed reasonable, didn't it?
Harry tilted his head at him, "No. Honestly, I don't know how to braid my hair."
"Let me," Draco said, then immediately cursed himself. Was it possible to just die from embarrassment?
But Harry didn't seem to think anything of it, "Yeah, alright," he said, sitting up cross legged, and turning his back to Draco.
After taking a slow deep breath and willing his racing heart to slow, he climbed on the bed and knelt behind him, "Tilt your head back a bit," he murmured and he started french braiding the other man's hair, his curls still damp but surprisingly soft.
Harry hummed softly as Draco's nails scratched lightly at his scalp as he gathered new sections to draw into the braid. "Feels nice," Harry murmured and Draco's mind was flooded with images of Harry laid out on the bed as Draco touched and kissed every inch of him; images of heady, hazy pleasure that made the back of Draco's throat feel dry.
"Good," Draco whispered as he continued to work his thick hair into the braid. "You have really fantastic hair," he said, "My mother has thick hair, I was always jealous, mine's so fine and wispy."
"I like your hair," Harry protested. "It's so shiny and it looks so soft. You've had nice hair since third year when you stopped slicking it back against your head."
He couldn't help but smile, "Just the personality that was a bit lacking."
"You turned out alright," Harry teased softly and something in Draco's chest warmed at the praise.
He summoned an elastic from the tray of office supplies on the desk and wrapped it around the end of the braid. "There," he said, "Now you won't wake up with your hair in your face."
"Thanks," Harry replied softly.
"No problem," Draco responded.
They stayed still for another long moment before Harry said, "Right, I'm half asleep just sitting here. Ready for the lights to be turned off?"
Draco shifted and slipped under the covers, "Yes."
Wandlessly, Harry turned off the lights and slid under the blankets, "Good night, Draco," he whispered.
"Good night." And there was a longing that settled deep in his chest to simply roll onto his side and pull Harry close. His fingers twitched to reach across the mere inches between them and hold Harry's hand in his.
He didn't know how long he laid there, listening to Harry's breathing, feeling the heat radiating off of the other man's body and aching to bridge the gap between them, all he knew was that, for the first time in his life, his feet weren't cold as he drifted off.
---------
Draco was having the most amazing dream.
He was laying in bed with Harry, their bodies all tangled together, as Harry kissed him. Draco's arms wrapped tighter around him, hands caressing, the broad, smooth planes of his back.
"Mmm," Harry hummed as he sucked on Draco's lower lip. When he drew back, he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses along Draco's jaw, licking and sucking as he groaned, "Mmm, Draco."
Surely, Draco had never heard his name before, it resonated down to the core of his being and made his entire body shudder as he arched closer and tipped his head back to give Harry easier access to his neck.
His fingers slid into Harry's hair, catching on the braid. And in that instant, he realized this was not a dream and his eyes snapped open. "Shite," he managed, shoving Harry back, "I'm sorry," he gasped, even as Harry flailed and fell on the floor.
"Ouch," Harry groaned.
"Shite," he repeated, "Fuck." He ran a trembling hand through his hair, tugging at the short strands as he tried to come up with some way to fix this, to salvage their partnership, to salvage their friendship. "Salazar, Harry, I'm sorry."
Harry sat up, on the floor, "Just to be clear, what are you sorry for?"
"Kissing you," he said. "Harry I never meant for you-"
"That's what I was afraid of," Harry groaned.
"Sorry?"
Harry shook his head and summoned his glasses so he could shove them on his face, "No, I'm sorry. This is all my fault." He looked up at Draco from where he was still sitting on the floor, "Can I be honest with you?"
Draco nodded.
"I have an embarrassingly massive crush on you."
He stared at Harry uncomprehendingly.
Rubbing at the back of his neck, Harry continued, "And I know that you couldn't possibly feel the same," he hastened to add, "But I'm sure that sleeping so close to you made my subconscious-"
"I feel the same," he blurted because he couldn't possibly wait for Harry to finish that sentence, not when he looked so heartbroken.
"What?"
Draco tried to get off of the bed, got tangled in the sheet, and ended up sprawling on top Harry on the floor. "I," he said, rubbing at his rib cage where it had banged into the nightstand, "Ouch. I feel the same."
"Yeah?" Harry breathed, his fingers clenching in the tshirt Draco was wearing.
Draco nodded, "For absolutely ages. I-"
Harry's mouth covered his and stopped the flow of words but that was just fine with Draco, obviously his mouth had been made to kiss Harry and nothing more. Harry started trailing kisses all over his face and Draco couldn't help it, he started to giggle.
He could feel Harry's smile against his skin but he growled teasingly before Draco found himself quite suddenly flat on his back on the mattress with Harry's body over his.
"Did you just apparate us without a wand?"
Harry's head popped up from where he was sucking what Draco was sure was going to be a fantastic bruise on his neck, "It's not like it was far."
"That is ridiculously hot," Draco said, arching up against the hard planes of Harry's body.
"Let's see what else I can do to get you to say that," he said with a wink.
Unsurprisingly, there was no shortage of things that Harry could do that Draco found ridiculously hot.
---------
On their way down to complimentary breakfast the next morning, they were greeted by the man covering the check-in desk, "Good morning, gentlemen, I trust you slept well. Especially since you didn't have any neighbors on your floor," he added with a smile.
"We slept great, thanks," Harry called as he hurriedly ushered Draco toward breakfast.
"Wait a minute," Draco said, looking over at him. "You said that every room in the hotel was full!"
Harry cringed, "I lied."
He stared at him in shock for a moment, "You Slytherin!" he accused. "Look at you, using your cunning to get what you want."
"Well, I'd say it worked out just fine, wouldn't you?" Harry asked with a pout.
And he took pity on him, because he was honestly the most adorable thing Draco had ever seen and he was pretty sure he was in love with him. "Better than fine," Draco replied, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips.
And it was better than fine, in fact, it made a fantastic story for their wedding just over a year later.
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Ho boy. This one got away from me. Sorry it's so long!
Day 53: First Anniversary | Day 55: Music
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lilacyennefer · 4 years ago
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A Future with You Part II
A/N: Had to write some fluffy dad Angel after this week’s episode which broke my heart. That’s it.
WARNING: none, just dad!Angel being the cutest
Part 1
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“Angel, are you sure it’s going to be fine?” You ask your boyfriend, worried.
It’s been months since Angel and Luke met, and ever since then the two of them were inseparable, but you were always worried to leave Luke with anyone.
But now, kindergarten was closed, and you had to go to work, but you couldn’t take Luke with you.
That’s when Angel offered he would take care of him, he said it would be dumb to pay for someone to do it, when he can do it for free.
You trusted Angel, but you were always nervous to leave Luke with anyone, and Angel wasn’t an exception.
“Yeah! He can meet with Pops, and the rest of the club.”
The next day you dropped off Luke at the clubhouse, Angel was already waiting for him to arrive.
“Angel!!” Luke particularly jumped out of the car to run to the biker, who was waiting for him with open arms, hugging, and lifting Luke up when the child reached him.
“We are going to have so much fun today! Just us, boys.” You could hear the excitement in Angel’s voice.
“Can I ride your bike?” Luke asks excitedly, a question he asks at least twice a day.
“Absolutely not.” You say before Angel could reply.
“When mami can’t see it.” Angel whispers loud enough for you to heart it, watching your reaction, and sending a wink to your way.
You shake your head “It’s not funny.”
“Mi dulce, it’s going to be fine! Worst case scenario, I’ll call you for some help.”
“Alright.” You sigh, handing Luke’s backpack to Angel “Everything that he needs is in the backpack.”
“I love you.” Angel hugs you closer with his left arm, while holding Luke in his right.
“I love you too.” You smile up at him, then look at Luke, playfully pinching his cheeks “and I love you, my precious little boy.”
“I love you too, mami!” He replies, giving you a kiss on your cheek.
“Well, since we are the early birds,” Angel starts after you said goodbye, and drove away. “Would you like to meet with my Pops?”
Angel could sense the nervousness in his own voice, wondering if the toddler could hear it too.
“Your Pops?” Luke asks curiously.
“My father.” Angel nods. “Then we can come back, and you can meet with my brothers.”
The toddler agreed to Angel’s plans, he excitedly walked to the Reyes Carnicería, holding the biker’s hand in his tiny one.
“Hey, Pops!” Angel greets the oldest Reyes loudly as he steps into the shop, making Felipe turn around to see his oldest son standing there, with a child that’s not his. Or at least he never saw the boy, so Felipe suspected it’s not Angel’s child.
“Where did you get that child?” Felipe asked his oldest son.
“This is Luke.” Angel answers as he picks up the little boy “My girlfriend’s son. I wanted you to meet with him.”
Felipe was surprised at both the fact that Angel had a girlfriend, sure, he knew that his sons were popular with girls, but Angel hadn't brought home a girl to him ever since he was a teenager. He was also surprised at the fact that he would date someone who has a child, and he’d take responsibility for them.
The oldest Reyes man walked out from behind his counter to introduce himself properly to the small boy.
“I’m Felipe.” He reached his hand out for him, the toddler immediately took his hand to gently shake it.
“I’m Luke!”
“I hope my son takes good care of you.” Felipe notes.
Even though Luke was only 4 years old, he could feel the air shift between the older men, making him wrap his arms protectively around Angel’s neck.
“He does!” He states confidently, protecting Angel without actually really knowing.
Angel felt extremely grateful for the little boy, who loved him unconditionally, looked up at him, and admired him, he looked at Angel like someone who’s worthy of love, of believing in, and he’s not someone who constantly fucks things up.
Yes, Angel Reyes was a good father, because Angel looked at himself as Luke’s father, although he never called him a dad. But he was proud of being a good father.
Felipe nods at the toddler’s statement, but Angel still hasn't said anything, as Felipe’s words stung him.
“I just wanted you to meet with Luke.” Angel says, ready to leave the shop, and forget his father’s reaction.
“You could bring your girl and the little boy to dinner once.” Felipe says as he walks back to behind his counter.
“Will do.” Angel nodded, then they said goodbye.
They walked on the streets of Santo Padre, hand in hand, since Luke loved to hold people’s hands, it made him feel secure, when Angel felt the little boy tug his arm, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“You know I love you, right?” Luke looked up at the biker, and Angel could feel his heart fill with love, and his insecure thoughts that his father’s words caused in him, to go away.
“I love you too, little one.” Angel replied, making the toddler smile.
“Good. Mommy loves you too, and me too.” He notes as they keep walking.
On their way back to the clubhouse, they picked up some breakfast for the MC, since they were probably already arriving at the clubhouse.
When they arrived, Angel could see Taza’s bike parked outside, suddenly he was nervous to have Luke by his side, not knowing how the club would react.
His nervousness increased when EZ stepped outside from his trailer, looking at his older brother surprised.
“Yo, boy-scout!” Angel yelled as he walked towards his little brother.
“Boy-scout.” Luke whispered, making Angel chuckle.
EZ walked closer, meeting with them halfway, grabbing the edge of his kutte when he stopped.
“Little bro, meet with Luke. He’s Y/N’s son.” Angel says nervously, making EZ raise his eyebrows from the surprise, since he didn’t know she had a son.
“Hi Luke.” EZ squats down with a smile on his face “I’m Ezekiel, but everyone calls me EZ.”
“You are Angel’s little brother?”
“I am.”
Luke looks up at Angel then says “I want a little brother too!”
The Reyes brothers looked at each other, trying to hide their snickers.
“Yeah, you have to talk to your mom about that.” Angel says.
He knew he was ready to expend their family, but you thought it was too early for that yet.
Only life had other plans.
“Brought some food.” Angel says while lifting the bag full of burritos.
EZ couldn’t reply as the loud roaring of the motorcycles filled the air, making Luke hide behind Angel’s legs just like he did with you when he met with Angel for the first time.
It’s time, Angel thought, his brothers are about to meet with his significant other’s son.
The MC members parked their bikes, Luke was watching them carefully from behind Angel.
“Are you sick Angel? Being up so early?” Bishop asks the oldest Reyes brother as he walks towards him.
“Nah.” Angel shrugs, shaking his head, unintentionally reaching his hand behind himself to Luke.
Angel’s movement didn’t go unnoticed by Bishop, making El Presidente look behind the younger biker, noticing the small boy standing behind him.
“Who’s that?” Bishop asks, nodding towards the little boy.
Unlike his father’s, Bishop’s voice didn’t have any malecy in it.
“Luke.” Angel calls for the toddler “It’s okay, let me introduce you to my brothers.”
“They’re all your brothers?” Luke asks Angel, his curiosity making him step forward from behind Angel.
“This,” Angel taps the front patch on his kutte “means brotherhood. Despite the fact that we are not related by blood, we are still brothers for life.”
Luke listened to his words carefully, but before he could say something to Angel, the man spoke again.
“This is Luke.” He introduced the little boy to the whole club, who were watching him. “Y/N’s son.”
The whole club greeted Luke with such warmness, it made both the little boy and the biker smile.
Angel led the toddler into the clubhouse, sitting down at one of the tables with Luke in his laps, while the others were fighting over the food he bought.
“Hey!” Angel yelled at his brothers “One of them is mine, shitheads!”
Angel didn’t realise he cursed until Luke’s tiny hand covered his mouth, making the biker look down at him surprised.
“No bad words.” Luke scolded Angel.
“I’m sorry.” The biker smiled down at the little boy.
“Angel.” Luke whispered “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Alright, okay.” Angel said while he put down Luke “Can you go alone or—“
“I’m not a child, Angel.” Luke stops him with a hand gesture that reminded Angel so much of you.
Angel raised his eyebrows with a chuckle “Okay.”
Bishop joined Angel at the table, placing a burrito in front of the younger biker.
“It’s good to see you like this, you know.” Bishop says honestly “Peaceful and happy.”
“Thank you, Bish.”
Angel tried to not show it, but Bishop’s words meant a lot to him, especially after the lack of support and interest from Felipe’s side.
Luke happily ran back to Angel, holding his hands out to the biker, making him sniff his soap scented hands, something that Luke always does to signal that he washed his hands.
The toddler sits back on Angel’s lap as he starts eating his breakfast, while casually chatting with Bishop, Luke listening to their conversation.
“Can I get some?” Luke asks Angel, pointing at his food.
Angel nods, his mouth is full with food, as he holds the burrito to Luke. The little boy takes a big bite out of Angel’s breakfast, making the adults chuckle as he starts chewing it, nodding his head, silently saying that he likes the taste of it.
The day passed way too quickly for both Angel’s and Luke’s liking, none of them realised how late it was, only when you showed up, all done with work.
To be honest, you were even late, because you had to go to a doctor, confirming something that you already suspected.
Angel had some club business to do after he said goodbye to Luke, promising that he’ll get home by dinner, so he can read a bedtime story to the toddler.
“I love you, little one. Goodnight.” Angel kisses Luke’s forehead after he finishes reading for him.
“Goodnight, daddy. I love you.” Luke says sleepily, before he falls asleep.
Angel stood there, totally shocked from how Luke just called him.
Dad.
Such a simple word, 3 letters, that hold so much significance.
Angel stepped out of the toddler’s room, closing the door behind himself as he wiped the few tears rolling down his cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” You ask Angel worried, panic rushing over you as you hurry up to him.
“He called me dad.” Angel confesses, a tiny sob escaping his lips.
“Aw, babe.” You reach your hand to his cheeks to wipe his tears.
It’s time now, you think.
“You better get used to being called a dad.” You whisper to him.
“I know.” Angel nods “I’m a part of his life now.”
“You are.” You agree “But not just his.”
“Yours too.”
“Angel.” You sigh when you see he’s not getting what you’re trying to tell him “Angel, I’m pregnant.” You say nervously.
Angel’s eyes grow wild as he looks at you, then down to your belly.
“I went to check it after work, and the doctor confirmed it.” You bite down on your bottom lip as you’re waiting for his reaction.
“We’re going to have another baby.” Angel smiles.
“Yes, another baby.” You laugh.
“I love you so much.” Angel hugs you tightly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.
“I love you more, my angel.”
Taglist: @gemini0410 @rosieposie0624 @blessedboo @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @mayans-sauce @mrsmarvelous1995 @phoenixhalliwell @rocketqueen @witching-hour @starrynite7114 @bellisperennis0 (comment or send an ask if you want to be added)
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call-me-rei · 3 years ago
Text
Candy Conversations
***Just warning you now, this one is rated R***
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I love February. Love is always in the air for the first two weeks and then we start to fade from winter to spring in the last two weeks. Everything feels nice and cozy.
The entire month is great, but I especially love two specific days of the month: the tenth and the fourteenth.
February 10 is my fiancé, Vic’s, birthday. Ever since we started dating, I’ve always tried to make that day special for him. Some years I’d make a nice dinner, others I’d take us out to do something new. Last year I booked us a trip to Yellowstone for his twenty-ninth birthday. We saw the geysers and made love in the hot springs in the dark. It was a wonderful memory.
This year though Vic had to work late on his birthday. He was so exhausted when he came home that he wasn’t in the mood to do anything that night; he didn’t even have dinner. He apologized profusely the next morning and I told him we could make up for it on Valentine’s Day if he wanted. He agreed and we left it at that. I would’ve said or done more, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise I had for him.
“Okay babe, I’m leaving.” I looked up from the coffee pot and toward my future husband. He walked in wearing a dark grey suit with a black tie and light blue dress shirt. I bit my lip as I looked him up and down.
Damn, I sure knew how to pick an outfit. And a man.
“You look so good,” I whispered as I pulled him in by his tie. His hands found their way to my hips as our lips connected. I savored the feeling of our lips moving together and pushed myself closer to him. His grip on my hips tightened, and so did the space in my pants.
“Babe,” Vic groaned against my lips. I sighed and pulled away, knowing what he would say. And even though I knew it wasn’t his fault, I couldn’t help but pout.
Vic had been incredibly busy lately. His company had the chance to sign on a new client and he was in charge of the pitch for them. While this was a great opportunity, it meant that he was working long hours and barely had time to spend with me. I knew he hated it as much as I did, but it was his job and he couldn’t help it.
I just wish it didn’t interfere with our sex life. I missed being kissed like I’d just kissed him. I missed touching him and feeling his skin on mine, his body against mine as we held each other through our movements and sweat and moans. God, I missed sex with him. We hadn’t been intimate in almost a month and it was getting to me.
I shook those thoughts from my mind as best I could and finished getting Vic’s coffee together. It wasn’t long before I felt his arms snake around my waist and his chin on my shoulder.
“I loved my note,” I said softly. I saw him smile from the corner of my eye and kiss my cheek.
On special days like Valentine’s Day and my birthday, or hell, even a random Tuesday, Vic would leave sticky notes with sweet messages for me to find. This morning I found one on the coffee machine that read:
Waking up to you gives me a better feeling than a cup of coffee ever could ♡
“There’s a few more of them hidden around.”
“I know. I can’t wait to find them all.” I turned my head and kissed him, more innocently this time.
“I hope you can find them all before I get home. I love your reactions whenever I do this.” I giggled. He was referring to the fact that I always sent him cute pictures or videos whenever I found one of his messages. They always made my day and he needed to know.
“What time do you think you’ll be home today?”
He smiled. “I’ll be back by five. There’s no way in hell I’m staying late today.” I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face. Vic wasn’t one to forget important days in our relationship, so I should’ve figured that he would do everything in his power to spend Valentine’s with me.
I nudged him back so he would let go of me, then I wrapped my arms around his neck. Once again, his hands made their way to my hips and we shared a sweet kiss. “I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you, too.” He pecked my lips then reached behind me to pick up his travel mug of coffee and his lunch that I’d put on the counter. “I’ll see you tonight.” I nodded and watched as he walked out of the house.
I sighed and made my way to our bedroom. I’d woken up before Vic to get his things ready, so I hadn’t washed my face or brushed my hair. I walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day and was met with another one of my fiancé’s sweet notes.
You look breathtaking at every moment of the day. I’m so lucky I get to look at you
I blushed like he was saying those words to me and snapped a mirror selfie to send to him.
I found this one. You’re sweet 😊
V: I’m also lucky but I already said that in the note 😉
Lol shut up
Shouldn’t you be driving?
V: I was about to but I tried to put my coffee in the cupholder and I found these
He’d sent a photo of the three candy hearts I put in his cupholder this morning when he was getting dressed. From left to right they said, “Be Mine,” “I’m Yours,” and “Love Ya.”
V: I’m yours too bb. I love you so much! ♥
A warm feeling flowed through me when I read his message. I smiled and replied:
I love you too. Have a great day 😘
V: I’ll try. I have meetings today so hopefully you can make it interesting
I chuckled. Oh, if only he knew how interesting I was planning on making it.
***
Vic had been at work for three hours and he hadn’t texted me. I knew he was in a meeting and would message me when he was out and on his lunch break, but I was bored as fuck. It was my day off and I’d already gone shopping for dinner tonight. That was all I had planned for the day.
Well, that and my surprise for him, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to start on that yet.
I huffed as I sat back against the couch and flipped through channels on the TV. Maybe I should start on his surprise. It would make both of our days more interesting.
I pondered the thought as I looked down onto the table at the note I’d found on my steering wheel.
You drive me crazy ;)
Vic had most likely put it there when he’d gotten home the night before, knowing I wouldn’t use my car until today. The note itself had me thinking. Maybe I could see just how crazy I could make him.
Without allowing for time to talk myself out of it, I pulled out my phone and opened the camera. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to work with the driving Vic crazy prompt. I eventually made a decision and tousled my hair a bit then started a video.
I sat back against the couch and ran my fingers through my hair then down my neck. I kept an innocent look on my face, making sure my eyes held a soft expression and my lips were pouty and parted. I licked my lips slowly then bit my bottom one, trying my best to look at the camera seductively as I did so. Then I winked and ended the video.
I drive you crazy huh? How’s this?
I knew what that video would do to him, so I sent it with the message and waited. It took a few minutes, but I got the response I was hoping for.
V: Fuck babe, the things I would do to you right now…
Calm down sir you’re at work
V: Call me sir again 😉
I rolled my eyes and ignored the message. At least I knew he wasn’t too busy for my messages. That would work in my favor for the rest of the day.
***
Another hour passed, meaning that Vic would be on his lunch break soon. We hadn’t texted since I sent him the video, so I thought it was the perfect time for part two of my surprise. With a smile I walked into the kitchen and pulled out the whipped cream from the fridge. Then I walked back to the couch and took my shirt off.
I wasn’t sure what I was doing but I knew the reaction I wanted. So I sprayed the whipped cream down my upper half, starting at my pecs and going down to just below my bellybutton. Then I started another video.
I started at my bellybutton, showing the work I’d done, then panned the camera up to just show my lips. I slowly traced a finger from my bottom lip down to my neck. My finger went farther down, making contact with the whipped cream. I collected as much of the sticky substance as I could as I went down to where the line stopped. Then I moved my finger and the camera back up to my lips and made a show of me sucking the whipped cream off of my digit. I sucked it like it was Vic’s dick, putting all of it in my mouth and running my tongue on the underside of it. Of course Vic was much bigger than my finger, but the imagery was enough to make me moan thinking about having him in my mouth again. Once my finger was clean, I stopped recording and waited for Vic’s message when he found what I left in his lunch.
Uh babe? What’s this about?
I giggled. Vic had sent a picture of the candy heart I left in his lunch. This one said “Lick Me.”
I sent him my latest video with the caption:
Do you want a taste?
It didn’t take long for him to reply.
V: I will come back home right now and taste you
Please? Maybe you can clean me up better than I just did
V: No I’ll end up making a bigger mess on you
I guess I’ll have to clean it up the same way 😉
V: Don’t tempt me Kells. I may have to teach you a lesson when I get home
I smiled triumphantly. That’s what I was hoping for.
Why not now? 😏
V: Because I wouldn’t go back to work if I came home now. And you wouldn’t be able to go to work tomorrow either
I blushed. I knew what he meant, and I was hoping he would follow through with it.
Maybe that’s what I want 😉
V: Don’t tempt me Kellin
I sighed. He was right, I was messing with him too much.
Fine. I’m gonna wash all this off and find something to do before I get ready for dinner
I locked my phone before he could respond and took it with me to the bathroom. And I had every intention of just stripping and going into the shower…
But I couldn’t help myself. I took off the rest of my clothes and posed in the mirror to where my naked butt was in full view and I was looking at it over my shoulder. I took a couple pictures and picked my favorite to send to Vic.
One more so you don’t miss me too much 😘
V: Just wait til I get home
I giggled as I read his threat and decided to leave him alone. I couldn’t wait for him to walk through our door later tonight though.
***
The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful. I refrained from sending Vic more pictures and videos because I knew he had an important meeting after lunch and he needed to focus. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to though. The urge was strong, but I knew he’d be upset with seeing me exposed before he had to present in front of his bosses. Presenting with a boner wasn’t ideal in his business.
I resorted back to watching TV for a couple hours before I thought it was finally time for me to start preparing dinner. I went to the kitchen and pulled out the vegetables I’d need for the meal to wash and slice them.
About another hour of prepping the side dishes and main coarse later, I was finally putting the meal together to cook. I had just put the chicken and vegetables in the oven to bake when I heard the front door open and shut. I smiled to myself knowing that my fiancé was finally home.
“Hey babe,” I called out. Footsteps followed my voice to the kitchen. “I missed you,” I said as I worked on cleaning the counter from the mess I’d made. “How was your da-”
I was cut off by Vic grabbing my upper arm to turn me around. He crashed his lips onto mine as soon as I was facing him. We moved against each other hungrily, him more so than me, touching and moaning in between heavy breaths and tight grips on the other’s clothes or body. I grinded my hips into his to try to ease the tension building in my lower half. That’s when he pulled away.
“You had me wanting to do that all day,” he said in a husky voice.
“Did I?” I asked before biting my bottom lip seductively.
He hummed as a response. "You should make it up to me. You know, if you're willing." I smiled. Vic was so sweet and always asked for my consent before we did anything rougher than usual. The fact that he was asking me at that moment meant that he had something planned for me, and I was ready for it.
"Yes, I'm willing," I answered. The look in his eyes changed instantly from caring to lustful. I knew I was in for it.
He reached forward and grabbed the back of my head, gripping onto my hair and pushing me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I adjusted myself to be level with his crotch the way he wanted. He didn’t need to tell me what he was expecting.
With delicate fingers I undid his belt and the button of his pants. I looked up at him and watched him bite his lip in anticipation and took off his jacket as I slowly pulled down his zipper. He took initiative then and slipped off his shoes and his pants, leaving him in his boxers and dress shirt.
I felt up my fiancé's legs, loving the softness of his skin against my hands. That soft skin changed to the light material that composed his boxers. I trailed my hands up the fabric until I reached the waistband. Once again, I looked at him with innocent eyes and pulled them down to release him.
I loved seeing Vic exposed. Just seeing how excited he was because of me made me feel fearless and confident. I knew there wasn't a limit on the things I could do to pleasure him, and I wanted to go through most of them that night.
So I started with licking my lips at the size of his dick then kissing his tip lightly. There was already precum on it, most likely from the videos I'd sent earlier. He had probably been thinking about me while he was driving home. I trailed light kisses down his length to his balls and back up again, lightly sucking here and there just to tease him. He hated when I did that, but he put me in control first and I'd been tempting him all day. Why not ride it out?
I gave him another kiss on his tip, this one slow and lingering. He tugged on a handful of my hair urging me to get on with it. I almost chuckled at him, but I couldn't deny that I wanted to get started too. So I did.
Another lingering kiss led to me taking his tip into my mouth. I sucked on it softly and slowly ran the tip of my tongue over it before pulling up to do it all again.
“You’d better not be planning on doing this shit all night,” my fiancé growled, tightening the grip on my hair. He was threatening me, but I knew it was because he was enjoying my teasing. He knew what was coming would be even better.
Not wanting to prolong our pleasure any longer, I ran my tongue up his length from his balls and took as much of him into my mouth as I could before I gagged. A sigh of pleasure and relief left Vic’s lips as the grip on my hair tightened even more. I used his reaction as motivation and moved my head back and forth, keeping a tight seal around him with my lips and finding opportune times to run my tongue along his skin.
“Fuck Kellin,” Vic moaned. I glanced up to see his mouth opened slightly and his eyes closed. I slowly pulled my mouth off of him and kissed down his cock until I got to his balls and sucked on them as I stroked him. He took a moment to look down at me and push some hair out of my face.
“You look so good while you do that,” he panted. I looked up at him again while I took one of his balls into my mouth, sucked on it hard, and let it leave my lips with a quiet “pop.”
Vic guided my head up by my hair and brought my mouth level with his dick again. “Open,” he ordered. I did what was asked and was rewarded by him filling my mouth up. This time he held my head in place while he thrust himself into me. I moaned when he hit the back of my throat and looked up at him with teary eyes, silently begging for him to continue as pleasure filled my body.
I needed this; I loved this. I wanted more.
I tightened the grip my lips had on him so he knew to slow down. He let go of my head and let me continue at my own pace for a few more minutes before it became too much for me. I needed more than this.
Vic must’ve known that I was desperate for him because he reached down and pulled my hand to help me onto my feet. Once I was standing, he kissed me hungrily. His hands went straight for my ass, groping and grasping as his tongue played with mine. A moan escaped my mouth and went into his with another squeeze of my backside. My fingers tangled in his hair, desperately trying to bring him closer to me. Sometime during our make out session I wrapped my legs around his waist. He walked us to our bedroom, never breaking the connection our lips had.
Vic walked us over to our bed and lightly tapped on my legs to let me know I needed to loosen my grip. When I did, he dropped me onto the mattress and got on top of me. We kissed a bit more before his lips made their way to my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. Vic knew that made me go crazy; I was a moaning mess underneath him.
I clawed at the back of his shirt wishing I was leaving marks on his skin instead. As if he read my mind, he pulled away from me to take off the light blue shirt and the thin white shirt underneath. I looked up at him for a moment, admiring him in all his naked glory.
Damn, I had a sexy man.
He came back toward me and pulled me to a sitting position by my hands. He then grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up and over my head.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His eyes traced over my upper body, admiring my tattoos and the color of my skin before he looked into my eyes. I leaned forward to kiss him, and he laid us back onto the bed.
Our kiss deepened and our hands roamed once again. Soon I was completely naked with hickeys beginning to form on my neck. By the time my brain could catch up with the actions happening in the room, Vic had stuck two of his fingers in my mouth and commanded me to suck.
I did as I was told and let him thrust his fingers in and out of my mouth to get them wet enough for what he wanted to do. Once he was ready he made me spread my legs so he could insert his fingers into me.
I moaned in relief when I felt him enter me. I’d been wanting something to fill me since that first kiss in the kitchen, and even though it wasn’t his dick, I was happy to have something. I leaned my head back against the mattress and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers stretching me out and his other hand stroking me.
“Please, Vic,” I heard myself moan when the feeling got too intense. He only chuckled before kissing both of my inner thighs and leaving the bed. I knew where he was going so I didn’t bother looking in his direction. I just focused on the pleasure I knew was coming.
And a few seconds later I heard the familiar sounds of a cap popping open and closing. I sat up then and watched as he sauntered over to me with a devilish grin on his perfect lips. I couldn’t help but blush at him. I stood up before he made it back to me and walked over to kiss him. I grabbed his dick as I did so and stroked it, rubbing the lube all around the area. His breathing hitched as he walked us back to the bed. I pulled away when I felt the mattress hit the back of my legs and turned us around. Then I pushed him back so he hit the bed with his back.
Vic smirked. He knew that I wanted to be in control so he let me do what I needed to do. That night I needed to experience everything he had to offer. I got on top of him and kissed him roughly before lining myself up and sinking onto his cock. Sighs of pleasure escaped both of our mouths the moment he slipped into me.
Once I got comfortable I rode him like my life depended on it. I bounced up and down and rolled my hips while I moaned, cursed, and screamed his name. I leaned my head down into the crook of his neck and he took control, thrusting his hips up to hit that one spot inside of me again and again. I left a bite mark on his neck, not that he cared.
Eventually Vic rolled us over so he was on top. He continued his assault on my prostrate, hitting that spot and making me shake and scream more than I ever thought was humanly possible. His back was covered in my claw marks and my hips were bruised from his rough grip on them. Just the thought of the marks we’d left on each other got me closer and closer to a release.
A few hard strokes and hungry kisses later and I was close to a climax. I begged for Vic to touch me while I dug my nails into his biceps. He flicked his wrist quickly and rubbed his thumb over my tip as he pounded me. I rolled my eyes and head back as pleasure took over me and I came on my stomach.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Vic growled. He kept his hand on me and let me ride out my high until I told him to stop because the feeling was too intense. When I finally came down, I pulled Vic to me by his neck and kissed him with all the passion I could muster. I moved my hips against him in time with his thrusts as the kiss deepened. Soon he was pulling out of me and telling me to kneel on the ground so he could cum on my face.
He got me a wet wipe to clean myself up with and pulled me up to join him on the bed. We laid there out of breath, tangled together by our legs, and sharing much sweeter kisses than the ones we had earlier.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” my fiancé said after he placed a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat slow down while he ran his fingers up and down my back. We stayed like that for a few minutes – content with our actions and enjoying our time together – before I heard the alarm I had set for the chicken go off.
I groaned in annoyance as Vic chuckled. “Is it time for dinner?”
“I guess so,” I responded with an embarrassed giggle. Vic kissed the top of my head before he patted my back.
“I’ll go turn the oven off. Why don’t you get in the shower and I’ll join you when I’m done? Then we can eat before round two.”
I smiled. “Sounds goo- wait, round two?”
“Yeah. I get dessert after dinner, don’t i?” I blushed and bit my lip as I nodded. “Great. I can’t wait to find out if those candy hearts taste as good coming from your lips.”
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shattered-mirror-fanfic · 3 years ago
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HAHAHA! I’M EARLY THIS TIME! Anyways, before you read: This is your warning about how in this chapter there’s mentions of child abuse, blood, death and scientific experiments on a child. You have been warned.
Ao3 Link: Chapter below cut for those who read it here on tumblr: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32206135/chapters/84899077
The walk home from school was dull as always, walking along the grey path, connected to a grey street, little color in the world. Despite being only six years old, Desdemona had many responsibilities, especially after their soul fully developed. 
The routine was simple: walk home, get homework done, change clothing, get a snack, curl up on the couch with the snack, a blanket, and their favorite doll until their dad got home. Usually on Thursdays like this, Desdemona feared when their dad would get home because he would yell at them and have them turn off the tv and get in the car. This new addition only started when their mom disappeared. One day, at 3:20 when she was meant to get home, she didn’t show up. It wasn’t Des’s fault, they were only a child and their soul wasn’t even fully developed, they were only wondering what if’s, it shouldn’t be their fault that it became real. 
No matter, they had other worries. They didn’t have any homework so they went straight up to their room, changing out of the light blue and white uniform shirt and white shorts into a comfortable black and white striped t-shirt and brown overalls instead. They grabbed a blanket and pink axolotl doll from their bed and went downstairs again. Before going into the living room, they popped into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of cheese puffs from the pantry that were hidden away at their height so their father couldn’t confiscate it. There weren't many of the puffs left so they took the bag with them. They went to the living room and climbed onto the grey couch, covering themself and their plushie with the blanket. They grabbed the discarded remote and turned on the tv, pressing random numbers until they got to the cartoon channel. 
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to an hour, and the front door slammed open as the episode faded to black. 
“Turn that tv off right now! Get up and get in the car, traffic was held up enough already!” The tall man who entered had yelled. Desdemona hated their father on Thursdays, he was always so mean and would only let Desdemona eat stale animal crackers that tasted both bland and too sweet. Regardless, the child slid off the couch and went to the door, putting on some boots and grabbing their father’s hand to be led to the car.
They were set in a booster seat and buckled in with the stupid animal crackers and doll. Their father slammed the door shut and got in the drivers spot, driving off down the road to their destination. 
Roughly twenty minutes had gone by when the car stopped outside of a large grey building located along a dirt path. Desdemona dreaded this place, there were no good people there, only mean men in big white coats. The place was bland and basically greyscale, no pictures or paintings anywhere, it was like a prison. Desdemona’s father led them to a room with only a bed, a few chairs, some counters and cabinets. Without instructions, Des hopped on the bed and waited, swinging their legs while their father sat in one of the folding chairs in the corner of the room. The child held their plushie tightly, letting their dirty blonde hair fall in front of their face, hearing only their father wishing for a normal child before three of the mean men in white coats came in and began their tests.
~~~
Souls develop in a human by the age of five, beforehand their souls are usually white, empty and still developing their traits. For Desdemona, their soul didn’t develop correctly, and by the time the trait showed itself, it was too late to guide their soul differently. It was malformed and full of hate and malice, the only things they were shown before, not an ounce of KINDNESS was present in soul tests, the only trait that had developed into a positive range was DETERMINATION, and even then, it was very weak, and couldn’t manage being the dominant trait on it’s own. 
It was very rare for souls to be malformed, and even rarer to have all but one trait be malformed. Oddities like these seem to be caused from one parent having a malformed trait, which in Desdemona’s case, could be their father having malformed kindness, after all, he was a “businessman”. It could be possible for a soul to be malformed in another way, where all the traits exceed limits, the soul exhibits all traits to an extreme and displays all the traits equally among the heart. But this has only remained speculation. 
~~~ “Des, wake up.” They heard their father say. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but even then, they knew it had been at least five hours since the doctors gave them the medication that put them to sleep. Desdemona sat up and saw their soul was exposed, it was black and inky, with a little dot of red on the side where a doctor most likely had injected raw determination into their soul to make it normal. 
“Sorry dad, I’ll be better…” The child weakly said.
“Listen Des, I know you hate me, I’m just still upset about what you did to your mother.”
“I didn’t do anything! It’s not my fault!” Desdemona cried. Their dad sighed and picked them up and carried them to the car, putting them into their seat before settling into his own and beginning the drive home. 
“We’re having mac and cheese again, and I want you to behave tomorrow and remember…”
“No showing my soul to anyone.”
“And if someone asks?”
“Say it’s determination and dodge other questions...”
“Good, sorry the tests ran a bit late, your soul is just needlessly complicated.” 
The drive was boring as always, the sky was illuminated with the end of a sunset, but it wasn’t anything. Des fell asleep in their seat, only waking up when the car drove over a bump that jolted the end of it. 
Tomorrow is another day.
~~~
Stepping onto the schoolyard was a chore, it was tedious, unnecessary, the educational systems flawed anyway, and yet it is still done because in our minds we believe that we would not make it anywhere without wasting time here. Desdemona wished they could just stay at home and learn from the internet where they only learn what’s necessary for a future career.
But, no, the elder gods demanded that all children (which is all people under 18) are required to attend hell to understand what awaits them if they step out of line. Unfortunately Desdemona was not one of the “gifted” ones that were made to believe that they were smart when in reality it’s just a facade to let the parents know which kid needs therapy before 16. 
In reality, Desdemona was just standing paralyzed at the school gates, knowing nothing excited them. They were tired, full of hatred, and bored. They looked around, seeing all the happy friends playing chase and other games, no one was alone, this saddened the blonde child at the gate. Until a new face appeared next to them.
“Hi! Who are you?! Names [REDACTED]! What’s yours?!” A boy excitedly spoke. Desdemona stared at the white-haired boy, stunned. Someone wanted to talk to me?
"My name is Des...Desdemona."
"That's a cool name! Say friend, what's your soul trait? Mine's determination!" The boy continued to speak. Desdemona stared at [REDACTED] before answering.
"Determination...at least I think…"
"Well can I see?" Before Des could say no, the teacher came out and called the kids inside for class time. "Hey, we'll talk after class ok? Bye friend!" And the boy left. He was always interesting.
~~~
The school day was done in an instant, and Desdemona found themself walking back home. The clouds greying above, making the air cold and damp.
"Desdemona! You should wait here until your father can get you! It's going to be a downpour!" They heard the teacher cry. They were only a little out of the gate, so it probably was best to listen. They walked back to the roofed area that the teacher was under, along with their new friend [REDACTED]. "I'll call your dads, do you mind waiting here?"
Two shakes of the kids heads and she left.
"Hi Dessie! Can I see your soul now?" Desdemona's new friend asked. They were conflicted, but ultimately, they trusted [REDACTED]. They pressed and hand against their own chest and out popped the pitch black soul. "Wow! I haven't seen a soul like that before!"
"My dad doesn't like me showing my soul…" 
"It's cool though! Don't feel bad!" The comment made Des smile, it was great to have a friend that accepts their oddities. The two talked about all sorts of child nonsense afterwards. About ten minutes had passed when the teacher came back out, her face was one of distress.
"Desdemona, your father will be here shortly, [REDACTED], I'll walk you to where your mother is, ok?" The kids nodded. They waited a few minutes until a car pulled up and out stepped Desdemona’s father carrying an open umbrella.
“C’mon Des, I have to take care of paperwork before eight.”
“Dad! Can my friend come over? Please?” The blonde child asked, running up to their father.
“What?! N-...fine, whatever keeps you happy, but you know the rules. Ma’am, is that ok?” The grown man asked, directing his attention to the teacher.
“Well, I would have to inform [REDACTED]’s mother, but if she agrees, then it’s fine.” The teacher responded. Desdemona smiled and ran back to give [REDACTED] a hug while the teacher pulled out her phone again. 
~~~
The ride home wasn’t dull for once, this time, it was fun! Desdemona and their friend sat and chatted the whole time, talking about the most random of things. When they finally got home, Des bolted upstairs to change into their usual after school clothes as fast as they could so they could get back to their friend. They could talk and play for the rest of their short lives the whole night! It was so much fun, and it was only sunset when Des’s father said that [REDACTED] had to get ready to go home. 
“Des, can I ask you something?” Their father asked, leading them to the kitchen while their friend was packing their bag still. 
“Sure!” They had left the kitchen and went to the empty backyard with only a tree and some bushes. 
“When did you think you could keep it a secret that you showed your friend your soul?” Des choked at the sentence. 
“Father, I’m sorry, he didn’t tell anyone and no one else saw!” The child spoke, tears forming in their dark eyes.
“Well that’s where you’re wrong, as your teacher saw and informed me when she called to ask if I could come to pick you up.”
“Dad! I’m sorry! I’ll be better! I can make it up to you!”
“Too late, Desdemona.”
~~~
When [REDACTED] finished packing his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and looked around, not seeing their friend at all. 
“Hey Dessie?! Where are you?!” He asked to the open room. I should investigate! And off he went, looking around in every room for their friend, he never saw them leave so who knows where they went! Only after going downstairs again and seeing his friend’s father walk into the kitchen from the backdoor with red hands, did [REDACTED] figure out where their friend was. 
Into the back yard he went! Only after sneaking by Des’s father and opening the slightly ajar door, did his smile and his heart sank. There, laying on the ground in front of the willow tree, was Desdemona, unmoving, and in a puddle of a dark red liquid. [REDACTED] rushed over to kneel in front of their now deceased friend. 
“Dessie...please wake up, why won’t you wake up?!” He shouted while tears formed in his eyes. “Dessie! Please! You’re my only friend! Why can’t you wake up?!” He shook his friend’s body and noticed the black soul, shattered in half. The boy grabbed it and held it close. “Please wake up! Please wake up! Please wake up!” 
Then, the feeling of [REDACTED]’s skin being torn off in pieces hit, and he let out a sharp cry of pain. The shards of the black soul soared up and [REDACTED]’s red soul was drawn out. “I need you to wake up!”
Silence…
The screaming had stopped, the black soul was absorbing new determination provided by the red one. [REDACTED] fell onto his side and let his eyelids grow heavy. 
The only other thing he could remember from that day were police sirens, an ambulance, and being paralyzed, forced to stare as his friend was covered in a white blanket, and carted off. 
~~~
That was the last of Desdemona, a child born with a destiny to die at the hands of a cruel father just because they had an imperfect soul.
Not even time remembers the life it took, the only one who could remember the blonde child was the one with their soul. The boy grew up on a quest to bring back their once friend, no matter how much their hate and death corrupted them. 
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downwiththeficness · 4 years ago
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In the Bond-Chapter 5
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Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.
Word Count: ~3,700
Warnings: None
A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.
Taglist: @symbiont13
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Lilah sat at a conference table, hands at her temples, groaning. The meeting was going nowhere. There had been so much goddamned bickering in the last hour that Lilah was tempted just to get up and walk out to see if they would even notice. The fucking testosterone in this room was thick enough to choke her.
They’d been arguing on and off for hours, save for a few breaks that Lilah had mandated when the urge to either bludgeon them to death or to pee arose. Every little thing had to be discussed, debated, twisted every which way. Nothing was simple, especially not when it came to the territory assigned to each side.
“Alright!” She yelled, finally having had enough. “Let’s just go over this again.”
Standing, Lilah leaned over the map.  The surface was covered by solid, clear plastic, onto which they were outlining territories with dry erase markers.  The current argument centered around the delineation of land around a fertile riverbed.
“Okay,” she grunted, “We aren’t planting crops, we’re just trying to figure out what land we’re going to be responsible for.” She put her hand over the area on the map, giving her friend a meaningful look, “We don’t need it, Seth.”
Making a derisive sound, Seth held up his hand, “Hold your horses. This river cuts through our liquor supply chain. We need access to the highway over there.”
Brasa shrugged, having leaned back from the table, “No one is saying you can’t import your liquor. Your horses will be safe.”
Lilah felt her eyes roll, couldn’t keep the sigh from escaping her lips, “He wasn’t talking about literal horses.”
Acting as if he hadn’t heard her, Seth barreled forward, “Yeah, but let’s say things get tense between us.  You could cut off our supply just like that.” He snapped his fingers to emphasize his point. “No, we’re going to extend out past the river and over the road.”
“An extra fifty miles,” Brasa drawled, “For an uninterrupted supply chain.”
“Correct,” Seth answered, a smug little smirk on his mouth.
As he eyed Seth, Lilah could feel the barest brush of warmth across her hands. Reflexively, she drew them back, closer to the safety of her body. The heat dissipated as Brasa stood, leaning his weight into his palms as he braced them on the table.
Like the rest of him, Brasa’s hands were large, the fingers spreading wide over the wood. Lilah noted how the gloves he was wearing stretched tight across the backs of them. She wondered, not for the first time, why he wore them.
“Then, I want the desert land here,” he pointed to a swath of empty land, “And here.”
Seth considered it before giving a nod. Lilah marked it out on the map with the coordinated colors she’d chosen before the meeting began.
“Wait,” Seth said, and Lilah’s jaw clenched, “What would you want with a couple hundred square miles of empty land?”
Brasa lifted a brow, “Are we holding more horses?”
“Forget the horses,” Seth bit out with a wave of his hand, “No one willingly chooses to own land like this.”
“Is that so?”
Lilah did not like the way he said that. A question wrapped around a veiled barb, wrapped in ridicule. She glanced at Seth to see if he caught the undertones in the words. He hadn’t. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved.
“There is a group of my people who have made camp there,” Brasa explained lightly.
Seth looked unmoved, “You don’t want us going out there and doing population control.”
Lip curling, Brasa replied, “Is that what you call what you were doing? Looked a lot like chaos to me.”
Without blinking, Seth shot back, “Well, its not our main bag, alright? This shit is new to us, since your people came along and infected my brother.”
And, there they were, talking in circles around the thing that made negotiating such an arduous task. Seth would never forgive Brasa for the hell he’d put them through, for the uncrossable gulf that now existed between him and his brother. Fighting with Richie about it only made things worse, and Seth was resorting to striking out at the only other available target.
“This isn’t the time for this,” Lilah edged, fingers tightening on the marker.
“When is the time?” Seth nearly yelled, “We started out killing them and now we’re marking out territories and writing fucking policies and procedures together.”
Lilah drew in a calming breath, “This is business, Seth.”
She’d explained it to him several times over. They needed the cooperation of Brasa and his people. There were just too many factions, too many rogue culebras to hunt down all by themselves. It would take scouring the land every day for years to make that happen. Brasa had already assured them that anyone getting blood at their sites was vetted intensely. Anyone who broke the primary rule and killed humans without regard for the safety of the group was eliminated.
Seth looked at her with ire, “Fuck business.”
“Yes,” Lilah countered with a sneer, “Fuck business. Fuck ending a war. Fuck peace.” She sat back in her chair with a huff, “You want to keep fighting forever? Guess what? You don’t have forever. He does.” She pointed at Brasa, “He has all the time in the world to wait you out, and he’s offering a solution—now, not later.”
Seth went quiet, jaw working. His fingers drummed on the table, eyes cutting.
Lilah saw the crack in his resolve and kept talking, “This sucks. It all sucks. Ironing out details fucking sucks.” She tapped her fingers on the map, “But these details are going to save lives. Possibly yours and mine. Let’s just get this done so we can get back to shit we used to do, the fun shit.”
There was a heaviness in the air as she trailed off, her expression urging Seth for some sort of compromise.  She was being honest when she said she wanted to get back to what she was good at. Lilah had been itching for a job for months, had actually stooped low enough to snag a pair of sunglasses at the gas station just to satisfy the restlessness in her hands. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end out figuring out who the richest person in the country was and rob them blind.
Brasa spoke, his voice piqued with interest, “What did you do before...population control?”
Seth cut a look at him that was both suspicious and angry, “We’re thieves. I run point, Richie is the box man, Lilah monitors with tech.”
“That is fortunate,” Brasa said as he sat, with a little smile that was far too easy for Lilah’s taste, “I happen to need a few items stolen for me.”
Lilah leaned her head on her head, motioning for him to continue. She was intrigued by the idea that he would be interested in contracting with them. A job was a tasty idea, at the moment, and found that she didn’t much care that it would be Brasa that would be directing them.
“As you might be aware, relics are often stolen from indigenous people and either put on display in a museum or kept in a private collection. I’d like some of those relics back.”
Lilah’s brows lifted. That was certainly not what she had expected him to say. The idea had some merit, though. Lilah’s favorite jobs were museums. So many pretty things that definitely needed a new home.
Seth considered it, “We’re not a cheap crew.”
True.
Nodding, Brasa simply said, “I have money.”
Definitely true. Every inch of Brasa’s office and the bar adjacent screamed money at her in an understated way. As old as he was, there was no denying that he likely had a cache of assets squirreled away.
Lilah looked back and forth between them, already calculating cost, labor, and expenses. Depending on what he wanted, she could potentially negotiate a hefty profit. And, if there happened to be something else in the museum that caught her fancy—bonus.
“Say we do this job,” Seth began, slouching in his seat, “And you pay us—and, we iron out all these details,” he gestured to the map. “Is that going to be it?”
“It?”
“Yeah. Or, are we going to have a dual relationship, here. Both contractor and partner.”
Lilah was actually a little impressed that Seth not only knew how dual relationships worked, but also applied it to their unique situation. She turned her attention to Brasa, curious to hear his response.
“I can contract others, if you like. But, I like to work with people I know, people that I...trust to have a stake in things going well for them.”
Logical. Practical. Efficient. Lilah was quickly learning how skilled Brasa could be when he wanted something done. He might want whatever these relics were back in his possession, but she wasn’t stupid enough to dismiss the fact that he was creating yet another tie between them, anchoring her nearby with every task they agreed to take on. It wasn’t possible to deny his motivations any longer. Denial wouldn’t do her any good. She was undecided on how she felt about it.
Seth remained silent, watching, waiting.  Lilah was holding her breath.
Brasa’s eyes narrowed, “I will give you the river, and the connecting highway from here,” he pointed, “to here. In lieu of payment, of course. You make take your horses wherever you like within that boundary.”
Mildly offended, Lilah cut in, “In lieu of payment, but you will cover expenses.  Air fare, hotel stays, food, and equipment.”
His attention, when it turned to her, was keen.  Though his expression did not change, there was a twinkle of laughter in his eyes, possibly pride, as well, “Done.”
“What if,” Seth began, “We took this deal, and our horses, and added this area, too.”
He pointed to the desert Brasa had originally bargained for.  It was surrounded by enemy territory, across the river they’d just gained, with no inherent resources. Lilah glared at him, knowing he was needling his opponent. The man just couldn’t help it, consequences be damned.
“Well,” Brasa responded levelly, “I’d say that you might have your horses, but you’d be isolated, alone, and on the wrong side of the river.”
Seth conceded the point with a nod of his head, “Not a fan of sand, anyways. Unless its a beach. Beaches, I can do.”
Unmoved by the sentiment, Brasa simply replied, “I will keep the desert.”
Lilah blinked slowly, and when Seth made no move to argue, she asked “So its settled, then?”
Both of them indicated in the positive, with Seth saying, “There’s one thing I don’t understand.”
“One thing?” Lilah commented, though she didn’t expect him to respond. He’d started on a tangent, and getting him back on track would be difficult.  Better to let him roll through his thought process.
“You’ve got a whole group of culebras that you’re feeding, right?”
Brasa nodded, though his expression had shuttered.
“How are you doing that?”
A valid question that she had figured out not longer after these meetings had started. Lilah cut in, trying to head off any insult he might inadvertently blurt out, “He’s having it shipped in.”
“From where?” Seth asked, hands gesturing widely. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in kind of a food desert, here.  Literally and figuratively.”
Without an answer to his question, Lilah looked to Brasa, brows lifted. She was curious enough about his process to let the question stand.
Cocking his head to the side, Brasa licked his lips, “I run a rather complex medical supplies company. We ship all over the country. Part of that business is blood donation.”
Seth’s mouth thinned, “You’re stealing blood.”
Brasa huffed, “We transport most of it to where it needs to go. Call it a finder’s fee.”
“What about the sick people who need it?”
Where was all this compassion coming from? Lilah wondered. Although far from heartless, Seth didn’t usually care this much about the people he ripped off. Why should this be any different?
“Would you rather we feed on the humans in the area?” Brasa’s voice was low, dangerous. Lilah could feel the offense, as if it were her own.
“No.”
“Alright, then.”
Sensing that the conversation had come to an impass, Lilah gathered up her paperwork, “I’m going to get this all formatted and polished for both of your signatures. Shouldn’t take more than a few days.”
“Great,” Seth muttered as he rose, “Let’s get out of here.”
***
Later, when her eyes started crossing from staring at the computer too long, Lilah shut down her laptop and sat it on her nightstand. Rubbing at her face, she yawned and settled against the headboard. Furtively, she glanced to the side, her hand already reaching for the candle she’d tucked away. After checking that the door was closed (despite having closed and locked it a few hours before), Lilah lifted the lid and inhaled deeply.
Coffee. Caramel.
A little too quickly, Lilah replaced the lid and set it back in its little hideaway. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling.  Lilah was feeling things she hadn’t really ever felt, not since she’d been in high school. And, even then, it was never this intense. She managed to get through their meetings solely because there was always something else to focus on. Every one on one interaction with him left her feeling frazzled and lightheaded. She’d stolen rare artifacts with less trouble.
In this business, Lilah had what most would call a late start.  She’d had a normal childhood, had gone through high school and done the work thing for a bit. Lilah had even sat in a cubicle, bored out of her mind. It wasn’t until she’d met a chop shop owner named Chewie that she’d been introduced to theft.  First, cars, then she’d set her eyes on higher things—art, diamonds, one time she managed to steal a yacht.
It had been a steady rotation of teams that were well-established in their own right, but never did more than a few jobs together before they split to keep the heat down. Lilah had spent almost a decade running in those circles before she’d run into Seth at a dive bar south of the border.  He’d hit on her, laughed when she’d knocked him off his barstool, and offered her a job.
And, here she sat. Hip deep in a relationship she didn’t understand and brokering a deal between her friends and the people they’d taught her to fear. Sneering at the course of her own thoughts, Lilah pushed her feet under the covers and turned off the light. It took longer than she wanted to get to sleep.
***
Oh, fuck, the bed was comfortable.  Lilah turned over, burying her nose in the pillow and kicking out her legs.  With a sigh, she settled back into the mattress that she was pretty sure was more expensive than her car. So comfortable was she that Lilah could be forgiven for taking a little longer than normal to become aware of another body in the bed with her.
She took a few seconds to assess and decide on what she was going to do, which was pretty much nothing.  Eyes opening, she waited for them to adjust to the warm light emanating from the lamp sitting on the nightstand. Cast in shadow, Lilah recognized the slope of Brasa’s profile. His eyes were closed, but she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping.
Her fingers curled with the urge to reach out and touch, her brain a little foggy from sleep. Lips parting, she breathed, lids falling to half mast Lilah let it roll over her tongue. She had to clench her jaw to stifle a pleased moan.
Lashes fluttering, Brasa opened his eyes, his head rolling to the side on the pillow. He looked her over calmly, unsurprised that she’d somehow ended up in his bed. Lilah, however, had questions.
“Is this real?”
His mouth quirked, “Does it have to be?”
She started to answer, and then stopped. Did it have to be? Lilah wasn’t sure which she preferred. When they were together, she felt excited and eager, even when she was outwardly annoyed. When they were apart, she struggled to reconcile the two versions of him that she knew to be true. With barely a thought, he’d eviscerated his opponents, hands tearing them into literal pieces. And then there was the way he was looking at her right now—all softness, all quiet affection.
Lilah’s silence continued, the space between them spreading thin with her indecision. Brasa shifted slowly to his side, lifting up onto his elbow so that he was looking down at her. His body was cut in half by lamplight, eyes too bright to be merely natural reflection.
Lilah’s skin drew up tight around the curves of her body as she worked to keep her gaze on his. Every inch of her seemed to be viscerally aware of him, responding to the smallest movement. Her nerves sizzled with his nearness.
He tilted his head to the side, eyes tracing the contours of her cheekbones, her neck, and shoulders. Lilah swallowed, disconcerted by the scrutiny, but unable to think of any way to break it. He studied her as if he’d never look at her again, memorizing details with tender care.
Finally, when she couldn’t take the silence anymore, she said, “How am I here?”
Brasa lifted a shoulder, “We had so little time together last night. Perhaps we needed more.”
She didn’t know what to do with that. Next question, then.
“You sleep during the day.”
Not really a question, more of a statement, but she waited for his answer nonetheless.
“Sometimes,” he replied, taking her change in subject in stride, “I need less sleep than most.”
“Why?”
He smiled, “I am very old. We need to sleep less, to feed less, as we age.”
Lilah had heard a little about this from Richie, who’d lamented that it took so long to build up a tolerance to going long periods without feeding.  And, she knew Richie only slept a few hours a night. She wondered just how often Brasa would need to sleep, given how much older he was. Lilah was no longer surprised at his efficiency with getting his projects together. If she could miss a few meals or miss a few night’s sleep every once in a while, she could get a hell of a lot done.
“That’s a nice perk,” she commented lightly, “When I go too long without eating, I get grumpy.”
Nodding, Brasa reached out and traced the pad of a finger over her shoulder and down her arm to her wrist, “I will keep this in mind and endeavor to keep you well fed.”
Would she do the same? He hadn’t mentioned that she had taken his blood without giving any in return. Whenever Lilah thought about it too deeply, she always came back to the same line of thought—his bite. She had tried to do a little covert research about the venom, but only found a few vague references to ‘donors’ seeking it out. Venom, it seemed, could be a popular drug in certain circles.
“I’m sorry that we left so quickly,” Lilah murmured rolling her wrist to place her hand over his, “I know that I didn’t...fulfill my end of our agreement.”
Twice. Two interactions in a row, she hadn’t. He hadn’t brought it up, but the disparity between what she’d promised and what she’d done nagged at her. She didn’t like to be made a liar.
Brasa’s brows lifted, “Are you afraid I’ll tell them?”
“No,” she replied quickly, “I just don’t want you to think I’m avoiding it.”
He smiled flirtatiously, “Are you offering now?”
Eyes widening, Lilah’s mouth parted, voice silent as her brain stumbled over forming a reply, “This is a dream. Is—is that even possible?”
He laughed, a real laugh. It made his face, so predisposed to severity, brighten in such a way that he fairly glowed in the dim light. Lilah felt her breath catch in the back of her throat, struck by just how goddamned pretty he was to look at.
“I don’t know,” he breathed, when he was able, “Would you like to try?”
The word ‘okay’ was out of her mouth before Lilah could stop it, her eyes wide, her heart beating hard. Brasa’s smile faded, his eyes focusing on her, the pupils bleeding out into the whites until there was nothing but blackness looking down at her. She drew in a shuddering breath, her fingers curling over his.
Sliding closer to her, Brasa cupped her jaw, tilting it back just a little. He glanced at her face again, checking for her consent. She gave the smallest nod, licking her lips. The motion drew his eyes to her mouth, his body growing hot against her. He leaned down, but instead of hovering over the thin skin of her neck, he moved to the side. The realization that he intended to kiss her came to Lilah in a slow, honeyed wave.
“Yes?” He asked, his breath fanning over her mouth.
“Yes.”
It was so, so slow, this kiss. Light pressure that grew heavier in the smallest increments. Lilah gripped his bicep, trying to ground herself as every nerve in her body screamed to life, reaching out desperately to get more stimulation. He drew back, changed the angle, and kissed her again—deeper, hungrier, tongue running along her bottom lip.
She was too hot, her skin seared by the heat emanating from him. Sweat rose and pooled in the hollows of her arms, beneath her breasts, the crease between her hip and thigh. She heard herself moan, felt her muscles relax as he rolled her beneath him. Brasa pulled away, nosing along her jaw and down to her neck. Lilah surprised herself when her lifted her chin, giving him more access.
The sharp press of his teeth snapped her awake. She sat up, breathing as if she’d been sprinting. Her entire body was shaking, her sheets damp with sweat.
“Well,” she croaked, “That’s new.”
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thegreatestofheck · 5 years ago
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The Girl with No Heartbeat Pt.2 ⊰JJ Maybank⊱
Part One!
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(gif not mine! all credit to gajo1987 )
Word Count - 6712 Warnings - Light swearing Synopsis - The pogues take a little time to get to know their new friend better. Mera tries to understand the new world she lives in and makes a few new...friends.  A/N - I kinda liked where this was going and a few others said they did too, so here’s another part! Mostly just some domestic stuff with a few tropes thrown in here or there. If you there’s going to be a love triangle, who do you think would be the other point? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy! And thank you all for you support, I couldn’t do this without you all. 
“You hungry?” JJ asked when the silence went on for a little too long. Mera nodded her head slowly. “I’m gonna go drive by my house to get some clothes,” Kiara said, standing. “Will you be okay here?” Mera nodded again. She remembered what it was like the first time meeting all of her siblings. They hounded her, asking questions, pulling at her hair, dragging her off to a feed only hours after getting her gills and tail. While similar, this felt different, better than that. Mera knew that these people were concerned for her as a person and not just another set of fangs. Kiara shuffled out of the room, leaving Mera with the three boys, who all stiffened suddenly. “What, uh, what do you like to eat?” JJ asked, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not sure. I’ve eaten nothing but human flesh for a very long time,” Mera said. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Pope’s eyes widened and John B covered a laugh with his fist. “I only mean to say that I am unfamiliar with the foods you eat here.” 
“I’ll whip you something up,” John B said, sending a wink her way. Mera smiled as he left, looking back at the remaining two boys. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions to ask me,” Mera said, straightening her back. She knew how humans were. They liked to ask questions, to understand things. She knew this when she made her decision to return. “I was going to say the same thing to you.” Pope slowly sat on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t we take turns asking questions?” “That’s a stupid idea, Pope,” JJ huffed. But Mera nodded her head eagerly. “I would love to play this game.” Pope sent JJ a look that said “who’s stupid now?” “You ask the first question,” Pope said, looking back at you. Despite his apparent dislike for the questions game, JJ sat in a chair and listened intently. “What year is it?” she asked. The question had been on her mind since she woke up. It was impossible to tell how much time truly passed beneath the sea. Mera had sisters who had been alive for centuries. A part of her hoped that she may still have some relatives alive, but by the progression of the world and its technology, she didn’t hold out much hope. “It’s 2020,” Pope said. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but JJ interrupted him. “Do mermaids have sex?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Dude!” “What? I’ve always wanted to know.” Mera smiled, the tips of her cheeks turning pink. 
“I am not used to speaking about such things so openly, but no. Mermaids, as you call us, reproduce only by turning other humans,” Mera said. “As we are immortal, there is no need to reproduce as humans do.” “I am so sorry about him,” Pope said, holding out his hand as if to shield Mera from JJ’s entire being. “Hey, it was a serious question,” JJ said, slapping Pope’s hand away. “Are you kidding me?” Pope spun around to slap JJ’s knee in retaliation. “We are having a conversation with a real-life mermaid and you ask her about sex?” “Well, what do you want to ask her, Mr. Suit?” “I’m not a suit, JJ.” “You’re acting like one.” “And you’re acting like a douche, did you know that?” “Oh, really?” “Yeah, really.” Mera watched in increased interest as the two bounced insults off each other, taking turns slapping at each other’s hands. Humans were so unusual. John B returned not long into their prolonged argument with a plate of food. “This is for you,” he said, offering the plate to her and completely ignoring the slap fight going on between his friends. John B jumped onto the bed, stretching out his legs alongside Mera, who delicately picked up what looked like a sandwich. “How long have you been a mermaid?” John B asked, tossing an oddly shaped piece of thin bread into his mouth. “I became a mermaid in 1667,” Mera said, looking up to the ceiling in hopes that it would help her mental math. “And if the year is 2020, then I have been under the sea for 353 years.” John B choked on whatever it was he put in his mouth, partially turning on his side to look at her better. “Really?” He asked, still coughing. “That long?” Mera nodded. She lifted the sandwich to her mouth and took a tentative bite, JJ and Pope still arguing in the background. Mera pushed down the desire to shove the entire thing in her face. When she lived beneath the ocean, there was nothing delicate about the way they ate. Living as a pirate, she had the same fate when it came to food. She was unsure whether or not times had changed since then. There was nothing overwhelmingly delicious about the sandwich she ate, but Mera had long ago forgotten what real food tasted like. Even something so simple as bread, lettuce, and some kind of slimy meat made her moan with delight. “This is amazing,” she mused with a grin. John B’s smiled perked up. 
“You think so?” Mera nodded her head up and down, taking another large bite. Despite her best efforts to eat calmly, she had gulped the entire thing down in a few bites. When she was finished she sucked in a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you, John B,” Mera said, setting the plate in her lap. “There’s more where that came from, Mera,” he said. She shook her head. “I can’t take anything more from you,” she said with the wave of her had. “You have provided so much for me already.” John B blew air through his lips, offering the bag of the flat bread to Mera. “Take anything you want,” he said. Mera smiled again, sticking her hand inside the bag and pulling out whatever was inside, inspecting it carefully. “These are called chips.” “Chips?” 
“Yeah. Fried potatoes.” “Potatoes?” Mera looked at the chip in her hand, wondering how on earth they made this out of a potato. “Go on, try it.” She was slightly wary of John B’s smile. She was more than familiar with pranks. The crew of The Iron Anchor had a habit of pulling them constantly, especially on her. John B wore the same mischievous grin as they usually had before something blew up in her face. But when she put the chip in her mouth, she found that there was no prank. It was salty and crunched when she bit down on it. Her eyes widened at the taste of it. “You like it?” He asked her, his smile growing. “There are about a hundred different flavors and a million different brands.” “Flavors?” “Like barbecue, sour cream, vinegar.” 
“I have truly missed many very interesting inventions,” Mera said. John B offered another chip, which she took gladly. “Oh, just you wait.” Once Pope and JJ finally finished their argument, Mera was deep in conversation with John B about the different kinds of foods that she had missed out on. Pizza sounded like something she would especially like. John B looked over to find Pope and JJ intently trying to listen in, so he decided to include them back into the conversation. 
“Did you know that Mera is 353 years old?” He said. Pope’s mouth fell open and JJ choked out a cough. 
“Pardon?” “Actually,” Mera said, swallowing the piece of chip that was in her mouth. “I am closer to 369 years old. I became one with the ocean when I was 16.” 
“Wait, you died at 16?” Pope asked, eyebrows furrowed. Mera shook her head.    “No, I never actually died. I just put of mortality for a couple hundred years,” Mera said, as if it was the most natural thing to occur. JJ scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “That doesn’t sound too bad,” he said. Mera narrowed her eyes at her hands, feeling an uncomfortable pressure suddenly build up near her heart. “There were downsides to being immortal,” she said, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Like what?” John B asked, picking a bottle off of the counter to drink. “I had to watch my mother mourn for me and my father on the same day, unable to comfort her. And the worst part was, I’m not sure I even wanted to comfort her.” Tears suddenly gathered in her eyes. “There is a numbness when you become apart of the sea. I couldn’t feel physical pain, but I couldn’t feel the emotional pain either. I have never mourned for my father, nor my mother, nor my crew. It felt so... empty.” The boys were quiet, unsure of how to comfort the girl in front of them. Mera spent a few moments silent, her eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, nose threatening to run. Eventually, she shook her head and looked back up with a smile. “Then, of course, there is that fact of tearing the flesh off of humans to eat,” she said with a playful grin. John B paled, suddenly aware of how close to Mera he was sitting. JJ pushed himself upward. “Anyone want a beer?” He asked, moving his finger across the room to point at each of them. Pope shook his head, chin pressed against his hands. “I’ll take one,” John B said. “Mera?” “Is it like ale?” “Yeah, pretty much.” “Then yes, I would like one.” “Cool.” JJ tapped his knuckles on the doorframe as he left the room. For some reason, watching him leave made Mera somehow feel exposed. “Mera,” Pope said, finally dropping his hands. “Why did you leave the ocean?” Mera heaved in a deep breath before letting it out as a sigh. There were too many reasons to condense into one simple response. Her mind searched for a way to explain it, but no good answer came to mind. “I always felt called to the sea,” she said, speaking slowly. “Even as a young child. My mother said that it was a part of my heart. I thought when I joined the sea that I would be completed, like that void I always felt would disappear, but it only deepened. I knew that whatever I was searching for couldn’t be found on the ship I lived on and could not be found where I was under the water. Pair that with being haunted by the screams of drowning men and the lack of feeling, I saw no other choice.” Pope bobbed his head up and down slowly. He said nothing else and neither did John B. The room was quiet until JJ returned with three beers. He tossed one to Mera, which she caught. He was about to offer a bottle opener when she broke the neck of the bottle off. Careful of the sharp glass, Mera took a long swig, oblivious to the agape jaws and wide eyes of the boys around her. Pulling the broken bottle away from her, she smacked her lips a few times, scowling. “This beer tastes very different from the ale that I am used to,” she said, before looking back at the boys. Her scowl fell and she lowered the bottle. “What?” “You just...the bottle,” JJ said, pointing at her hands. Mera’s cheeks flushed. “I guess the strength has yet to wear off,” she said. That meant there were going to still be side effects of leaving that she had yet to feel. “You had super strength too?” JJ turned in a circle, hands over his eyes. “I want to be a mermaid so bad.” “I’m telling everyone you said that,” John B said, pointing a finger at his friend. Pope laughed, leaning back. Mera smiled as she watched the friends interact. They reminded her of her crew, whom she remembered like she had left them yesterday. Maybe that was why she felt like she fit in with them so well. It was like she never left home. “So, Kie, Pope, and I came up with a plan while you were asleep,” John B said, pushing himself into a straighter sitting position. JJ looked away from Mera, remembering where he was when that conversation took place. The world Mera came from, it was shameful for a woman and a man to sleep in the same bed if they weren’t married. She had hoped that in the world was full of things like beer bottles and pizza that the stigma and shame would have passed on. “It’s a pretty good plan,” Pope said, pulling Mera back into the conversation. 
“Plan for what?” She asked. 
“For keeping you here, with us,” John B said, as if it was that obvious. “And before you say something about being too much, we know that you have nowhere else to go and this world is incredibly different from the one you left. We want to help you.” 
Pope bobbed his head up and down in agreement. Mera felt a strange feeling build up inside her, her eyes beginning to sting. She recognized the feeling almost instantly; joy. Mera fought back the tears, not wanting to cry in front of her new friends. She swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded. “What’s your plan then?” She asked. “Alright,” John B said, leaning forward. “We tell everyone that you’re my cousin, Uncle T’s daughter. My Uncle T is supposed to be here taking care of me right now, but he’s not so we’ve got to pretend that he is. We’ll say you were living with your mom and the mainland but wanted to spend a summer with your uncle and your wonderful cousin. That’s me.” JJ rolled his eyes, but Mera nodded slowly. “Can you not live alone?” Mera asked him. “Why must ‘Uncle T’ be your guardian?” John B cleared his throat, a sad look falling on his face. The other two boys looked at their feet and Mera instantly knew she had said something wrong. “My dad is missing,” John B finally said. Mera’s heart sunk. She understood all too well how losing her father felt. “And since I’m not 18, I can’t live alone without a guardian.” Mera scowled. She placed her hand over John B’s in an attempt to comfort him, a movement that caught the attention of all in the room. She retracted her hand, cheeks turning pink. “Where...where I’m from,” she said, trying to cover for herself. “Many were married before they were 18 and living lives all their own. I myself have been betrothed to a pirate lord since I was ten and was expected to marry when I became a woman.” Mera had wished that it would be comforting, but it clearly just made the boys uncomfortable. She thought it best to hold her tongue on matters of the past for a while, at least until she was asked questions. She had no desire to make the boys any more confused or unnerved. “Well,” Pope said, trying to finish what John B had been saying. “You’ll want a job so you can survive out here. John B works with the Camerons up at Tannyhill-” “Tannyhill?” Mera asked, perking up and immediately forgetting her vow to stay silent. “You know it?” JJ asked. “Yes, my family had dealings with Denmark Tanny for years.” “I keep forgetting you’re like a million years old,” JJ said, putting a hand over his eyes. “369,” Mera corrected. JJ dropped his hand and gave her a smile. “Right.” 
“The plan?” Pope’s voice drew Mera’s attention away from the blond and his smile. “I’ll introduce you to Ward Cameron,” John B said. “You just smile at him and I know he’ll give you a job.” 
Mera nodded her head. “You’ll stay here with John B,” Pope continued. “You’ll work with Ward Cameron and we’ll just keep going about our daily life.” “And that’s the plan,” John B said, putting his hands behind his head. “I like this plan,” Mera said. “But you’re sure I am allowed to stay? I don’t mean to be a burden.” “It’s no problem,” John B said, waving his hand. “Like I said, you’re a Pogue now and Pogues help out Pogues.” Mera couldn’t help her grin. The front door opened and Mera jumped, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “I’m back!” Kiara yelled through the house. When she showed up in the doorway, she had a bag in each hand. “I have some clothes and some food for you, Mera.” “Thank you, Kiara,” Mera said. “You were a pirate, right?” JJ asked, pulling Mera’s attention away from Kiara. “Yes.” “But you talk like a rich kid.” “JJ, c’mon,” Kiara said, giving him a look that reminded Mera of her mom. 
“It’s alright, Kiara.” Mera turned to look at JJ. “My parents wanted me to be able to speak with British officials without my vernacular giving me away.” “Vernacular?” JJ breathed under his breath to Pope, who leaned back and whispered a quick definition. “And then I spent more than 350 years with my brothers and sisters who all spoke in a variety of different ways and in many different languages. This is the one for me that felt the most fitting.”    “Wait, how many languages do you speak?” Pope asked, an interested grin on his face. “Hang on,” Kiara said. “Let’s save questions until after the girl has some clothes on.” “I like what she’s wearing now,” JJ said, with a grin. Mera felt her cheeks heaten again, a small smile on her face. “All of you get out,” Kiara said, a disgusted look on her face. “This is my room,” John B protested nonchalantly. “I think I should be able to stay.” “Nope!” Kiara said, shouting over the boys before Mera could hear the arguments they made for who got to stay in the room as she changed. “We’re all going out to the front so she can change, yeah?” The boys grumbled. Mera was grateful for Kiara and her ability to round up the boys when she needed to. It was a talent that Mera respected. Mera’s mother became captain of The Iron Anchor because of her skill to round up the crew, even at their rowdiest. They respected her, followed her no matter what. If Mera wasn’t mistaken, Kiara played a similar role amongst the Pogues. Kiara herded the boys out of the room like cats, shutting the door behind her. Mera was now alone for the first time. She sat there, unmoving for a while, trying to see if being alone was something she liked. She never had before, but maybe she did now. After a few minutes, Mera decided that she did not like being alone and it was the last place she wanted to be. She dug through the clothes, pulling out a long pair of pants and what she assumed were undergarments. It was hot out, but there was nothing outside of the long pants that Mera could see herself wearing. When Mera emerged from the bedroom, she was wearing a pair of Kiara’s jeans and a blue tank-top, feeling more than exposed. JJ’s sweater was in her hands as she shuffled toward her new friends. “Hey!” Kiara said when she caught sight of Mera. “You look good!” “Thank you,” Mera replied, sheepish. “I don’t know who’s sweater this is, but thank you for letting me borrow it.” 
“Keep it,” JJ said, arms crossed as he leaned against the countertop. “I got a million more back home.” Mera smiled, still feeling awkward and uncomfortable in the clothes she was wearing. “We were thinking about going to town for a bit,” John B said, scuffing his feet on the floor. “Introduce you to some of our friends to get the word out there that you’re in town.” 
“If it’s alright with you,” Pope added quickly. “That would be wonderful,” she said, bowing her head slightly. 
“Great!” JJ clapped his hands together and pushed himself off the counter. “I also brought a hairbrush for you,” Kiara said as the boys made their way to the front door. “I can brush your hair on the way there.” Mera hadn’t thought about how haggard her hair much have looked. She wasn’t sure she wanted to think about it after spending the last hour surrounded by people. Kiara approached her with a smile and looped her arm through Mera’s, leading her toward the front door. The van outside was unlike something Mera had ever seen before. She tried not to let it surprise her, but when Kiara gave her arm a squeeze, she realized that she wasn’t covering up her shock as well as she had hoped. JJ helped Mera into the back of the van, offering his hand to pull her in. She took it and he pulled her inside. As soon as she was sitting with her back to Kiara, JJ let go of her and turned to look out the window. Mera watched him flex the muscles in his hand, feeling a tingle in her own. Kiara took the bottoms of Mera’s hair, brushing the tangles out slowly. It was methodical, mind-numbing. Music bopped out of the radio, Pope, John B, and Kiara each taking turns talking at a million miles per hour. Mera tried to listen to what they were saying, but she found her mind turning back to JJ, sitting across from her, staring out the window. “Your hair is so soft,” Kiara mused, running her fingers through Mera’s brushed hair. “Do you want me to put it back?” “Could you braid it?” Mera asked. “One or two?” “Two please.” The van shuddered to a stop just as Kiara finished braiding Mera’s hair. They all stepped out into the sun. The sun. Mera lifted her face up to the sky, letting the heat from the sun beat against her skin. She breathed out as the wind rustled her hair. Mera hadn’t felt the kiss of the sun in far too long. A smile spread across her lips, soaking in the warmth, letting it ease the tension in her bones. “There is no way anyone will believe that she’s your cousin,” JJ muttered from behind. “Dude.” “No, JJ’s definitely right.” “Dude!” “Who is this?” Someone asked from in front of her. Mera pulled herself from her trance and turned toward the voice. A boy stood beside her; tall, blond, wearing a pink collared shirt. Mera smiled at him and offered her hand. “Mera,” she said. The boy shook her hand. “Rafe.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “The pleasure is mine,” Rafe said with a wide grin. “What are you doing here, Rafe?” John B asked, walking up and standing behind Mera. She could feel the tension between them and her smile fell. She knew well enough when an enemy had boarded ship to know that there was something going down between her new friends and Rafe.  “Just talking to a pretty girl, here, John B. You got a problem with that?” Rafe asked. Mera felt her chest tighten, discomfort passing through her like ice. “Yeah, I got a problem. She’s my cousin,” John B said, voice tight. “There is no way she’s your cousin. I mean-” Rafe’s eyes scanned Mera’s body, instantly making her tense. She felt her breath hitch. “Damn.” “Back off, Rafe,” JJ growled, standing beside Mera. “I can talk to whoever I want, JJ,” Rafe snapped, his smile finally falling. Mera felt herself flinch. What was she doing, being afraid of a boy like this? She had fought and killed tougher man than him. She had dragged men to their deaths for hundreds of years. She had no reason to be afraid of him. “There’s no need for a fight, boys,” Kiara said, Pope standing next to her by the van. “We’re just showing Mera around.” “Mera, huh?” Rafe looked down Mera’s body again. “Back off, man!” JJ said, starting to take a step forward. Mera’s hand shot out and grabbed JJ’s wrist to keep him from going any further. Never before in either of her lives had she let someone else fight for her. She wasn’t about to start now.    “I would really appreciate it if you would less us by,” she said, smiling up at Rafe.    “But we were just getting to know each other.” He reached out toward her, but before he got close, Mera slapped his hand away and jabbed the heel of her palm into his nose. He stumbled backward, blood dripping down his face. “Shit!” John B put his hands against his forehead while JJ let out a burst of laughter. “Mera!” Kiara cried out, stepping forward. “What the hell?” Rafe coughed, blood pooling in his hands. “Never touch a girl when she without her permission,” Mera seethed, leaning closer to Rafe on the ground. “You are so badass,” JJ laughed to her from behind. Mera felt herself smile, but dropped it quickly. “Let’s just go,” Kiara said, putting a hand on Mera’s arm. Mera looked away from Rafe and back over at Kiara, who was pleading with her eyes for Mera to step away. From the look on Kiara’s face, Mera could tell that this wasn’t the first time she had been forced to beg her friends to stand down from a fight. Mera didn’t want to be another burden on Kiara’s back. She nodded once, looking back at Rafe for a few seconds, before stepping toward Kiara and Pope. John B and JJ followed after them as they walked away. JJ threw his arms around Mera’s shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” JJ said, beaming. “You handed Rafe his ass!” John B laughed. “You’re going to be my favorite cousin.” Mera smiled at the two of them as John B tapped her shoulder with his fist, a feeling of pride burning in her chest. “Look, Mera,” Pope said, stepping in front of her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “That was pretty sick back there and I’m sure Rafe deserved it, but this isn’t like your pirate ship. We can’t go around punching people. It’ll bring too much unwanted attention and could get you into some serious trouble.” “C’mon, chief-” “JJ, Pope’s right,” Kiara said. “You get too much attention and people will start asking questions. You have to lay low, Mera.” The feeling of pride soured in Mera’s chest. She felt like she was being chastised by her parents and it wasn’t a good feeling. Still, she acknowledged what they were saying with a nod. “Good, let’s go get some ice cream.”
***
“You didn’t like that boy very much, did you?” Mera asked JJ, taking a bite out of her ice cream. “Oh, jeez, Mera,” JJ said, cringing. “You don’t bite it. You gotta lick it.” “Lick it?” “Yeah.” 
“Oh.” 
Mera watched how JJ was eating his ice cream and mimicked him. It was much more pleasant to her teeth than biting it. “No, we don’t really like Rafe,” JJ said finally, once Mera got the hang of her ice cream. “Why?” “He’s a kook, one of the worst.” “I don’t understand that word. ‘Kook.’” “They’re all filthy rich and the only one who gives two shits about the rest of us on this island is Kie.” JJ pointed his ice cream at Kiara as she ordered up at the front. “I understand that,” Mera said. “My parents were born with nothing, forced to steal and beg for food, while the British lived comfortably in their big houses with their slaves.” Her voice shook as she spoke, hands curling into fists. “You know they got rid of slavery?” JJ said, licking the top of his round ice cream. Mera nodded. “Many of my siblings were those lost at sea from the slave ships coming from Africa. And every new brother or sister we gained, they told us about the world above land as they knew it. Many of my siblings were sad to hear of the end of slavery for they feared it meant less food, fewer people willing to turn and join us,” Mera said and she shook her head. “But I saw those slave ships, I boarded them. The cargo we stole was people more often than not, human beings who did not deserve to be in chains.” “You and Kie would get along really well,” JJ said. Mera scoffed softly, trying to pull herself from the memory she had dropped herself into. Kiara slid into a chair beside Mera, holding a cup rather than a cone. “What kind did you get?” She asked Mera. “Chocolate,” Mera said. “JJ said it was the best kind.” JJ raised his eyebrows, biting into his waffle cone.    “One thing you should learn,” Kiara said with a playful tone. “Don’t ever listen to JJ. He’s constantly full of shit.” “Hey!” JJ protested, but Mera nodded her head with a smile. “Sounds good to me.” By the time they all left the ice cream parlor, the rumor had already buzzed around that John B’s cousin was in town. A few people whispered to each other as the group of five walked past. Mera felt that same fear in her bones when Rafe was looking at her once again. Never before had whispers bothered her. She would keep her head high, walk on without a care. Apparently, she had changed much since joining the ocean. A strange sound from behind startled Mera. She spun around and realized that she wasn’t the only one to tense. JJ, who stood behind her, stepped in front of her ever so slightly as a large blue and white truck with strange lights pulled up behind them. “These are the police, Mera,” Pope whispered to her. “Law enforcement.” Mera nodded, mouth running dry. Pirates and law enforcement had never gotten along. Maybe these police, as Pope called them, were more accepting of different kinds of people than in her time. A woman stepped out of the front of the car. “John B Routledge,” the woman sighed, walking over to them. “What can I do for you, Sheriff Peterkin?” John B said and took a step toward her. “I heard you have a cousin in town,” the Sheriff said, looking at the group behind him. “That her?” Mera put a hand on JJ’s shoulder. When he looked back at her, she nodded her head and he stepped out of the way. “My name is Mera, ma’am,” she said, putting out a hand for the Sheriff to shake. “Good to meet you.” 
“I didn’t realize the police drop by every time family visits from out of town,” John B said, obviously tense. Tread lightly, Mera told herself. “I’ve just never heard mention of a cousin from Big John or your Uncle Teddy.” The Sheriff rested her hand on her hip. “Just wanted to make sure nothing fishy was going on.” Mera heard JJ cough over a laugh. “I’ve been living with my mom,” Mera said. “I haven’t had much contact with my dad in years, but he reached out, wanted me to come down.”    “Why now? On top of taking care of John B here, now he’s got his long lost daughter in town.” “Is this an interrogation, Sheriff?” John B asked, defensiveness clear in his voice. “It’s alright, John B,” Mera said, putting a hand on his arm. “You see, ma’am, my dad wrote me and my mom a few months back, said his brother was missing. I didn’t even know I had an uncle, or a cousin. My dad said something about regrets and doing right by me, you know the drill. My mom has a lot of work and couldn’t come down, but it’s summertime and I wanted to see my dad and to meet my cousin.” “And seeing your dad, how has it been?” “He is very different than I expected.” Mera smiled at the Sheriff, hoping that she wasn’t rusty on all of the things her parents had taught her about lying. With adults, be as innocent as possible. Smile, bat your eyelashes, make things sound worse than they are. And if it is a woman, rely on her maternal instincts. She’ll want to protect you, Mera, make her think she needs to. Eventually, the Sheriff dropped her hand from her waist and gave Mera a rather unconvincing smile. “It’s good to meet you, Mera,” the Sheriff said. “If any of these boys give you any kind of trouble, don’t be afraid to call me.” 
“Thank you, Sheriff.” “See you around, John B.” 
When the Sheriff stepped into her car and drove away, Mera heard a collective sigh escape her friends behind her. “C’mon,” John B said. “Let’s get home.”
***
“Damn,” Mera whispered, spotting a brown stain on her jeans. “What’s up?” “I got ice cream on Kiara’s jeans,” Mera said, chest tightening. “I didn’t realize it dripped the way it did.” “It’s alright,” Pope told her. “You can just change.” Mera’s lips twitched awkwardly to the side. “Don’t tell Kiara, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but the other pants she brought are rather...short and I’m not used to wearing something like that,” Mera said, leaning forward toward the boys, afraid that Kiara would hear, even though she was outside on the phone. “I don’t mind wearing these. I once wore a blood-stained shirt for a week before we made it to port.” “Don’t sweat it,” John B said, waving off what Mera said about the blood-stained shirt. “You can borrow something of mine.” He turned away from the dining room and headed down the hall. “You guys have been too kind to me,” Mera said, looking back at JJ and Pope. “I don’t deserve this kindness or respect.” 
“You saved JJ’s life, Mera. I think you deserve more than what we can give.�� Mera felt tears sting in her eyes as she hung her head. “You don’t know the things I’ve done,” she said, her words trembling. “What do you mean?” John B turned back around the corner, holding a pair of pants in his hand, completely unaware of what he walked into. “These are just a pair of sweats, but they’re clean.” He tossed them at Mera. She caught them and forced herself to smile. “I’ll be right back.” Mera hurried off to the other room. As soon as the tight jeans were off of her legs, Mera let out a breath of relief. She quickly pulled John B’s grey sweats, pulling the elastic as tight as they would go. Walking back to the dining room, Mera had a smile on her face. These pants were much more similar to the trousers she once wore. It almost felt like being home. “How do you do it?” JJ asked, almost breathless. “Do what?” Mera asked, realizing that the sweats she wore had pockets. A wider smile spread across her face. “Nevermind.” Kiara came through the front door, a frown on her face. “My parents won’t let me stay,” she said. Mera’s heart deflated. “I have a shift tomorrow morning and they want me home. I’m sorry, Mera.” “Don’t worry, Kiara. I am fine staying here with JJ and John B.” “Are you sure?” “Yes,” Mera said. “You and Pope have a life to live that I have no desire to get in the way of.” “We’ll see you at the party tomorrow night, though,” Pope said, pointing a finger at Mera. “A...party?” “Yeah, we all get together at the boneyard, drink beer, dance, whatever,” Pope said. “That sounds like fun. I will see you at the party then.” “I’ll take you home, Pope,” Kiara said. “Bye, guys.” “See ya.” 
Watching Pope and Kiara walk out of the house suddenly made Mera feel like a part of her was leaving with them. She watched the door shut behind them, watched Kiara’s car pull out of the driveway. “Are you good?” John B asked. Mera had almost forgotten they were there. She turned around, smile on her lips, and nodded. “Tired, I think,” she said, twisting her hands. “You can sleep in my bed,” John B said. “I’ll take the floor.” “No, it’s alright. I’m used to a bed on the floor.” “No, no, no, sweetheart,” JJ said, putting his hands on her shoulders and leading her off toward the bedroom. “A princess never sleeps on the floor.” “JJ, I’m not-” “You are tonight.” Mera found herself once again in the bedroom. “We’ll be out there,” John B said. “If you need anything, just let us know.” They were halfway out the door when Mera turned around suddenly. “I don’t want to be alone,” she blurted, taking a quick breath after she said it. The boys stopped and turned back around. “I can’t remember the last time I was completely alone.” John B and JJ glanced at each other. “As your cousin, I wouldn’t feel right staying,” John B said and bumped JJ with his elbow. “He can stay with you.” “You’re not her cousin, dude,” JJ said as John B started to pull the door shut. “Sleep tight!” JJ and Mera stood awkwardly on opposite ends of the room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and she tucked hers under her arms, both refusing to look at each other. JJ cleared his throat, tapping his foot against the nightstand. Mera was regretting her decision to say anything at all. “Thank...thank you for staying,” Mera said finally. JJ looked up at her suddenly, shaking his head. “It’s no problem.” “Well, um, I’m going to….” She pointed at the bed. “Yeah, of course.” JJ waved his hand toward the pillows, stepping out of the way. Mera went to the other side of the bed, crawling under the blankets. “You aren’t sleeping in your clothes, are you?” She asked him. JJ’s cheeks turned slightly red as he looked anywhere but at her. “No, but-” “I want you to sleep comfortably,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chest. JJ nodded his head slowly. When it was clear to Mera that he wasn’t going to move until she did something, she rolled onto her side, closing her eyes. “My eyes are closed, JJ.” She heard him shuffle around, mumbling to himself about something or another. She finally felt the bed dip underneath him as he slid under the covers. Mera rolled onto her back, sitting so close to the edge, her arm practically dangling from the bed. “I have slept in closer quarters with men before,” Mera said into the darkness. “There is no reason to be uncomfortable.” “Are you telling me that?” JJ asked. “Or yourself?” Mera tensed her jaw, letting out a deep breath. “I’m not sure.” There was silence again. Mera could hear the wind rustling the reeds and leaves outside, the water lapping against the dock, the sound of JJ breathing. “You said you were engaged.” “Betrothed.” “Yeah.” JJ let out a deep breath. “What was his name?”  “Jeremiah Hayne.” “What was he like?” “I don’t know. I never met him.” “You were going to marry someone you never met?” “That was the world I lived in, JJ. It was a treaty with him and his armada. We needed the extra aid, the ability to sail his waters.” “Weren’t you...upset about it?” “Not really. It was for the best of my crew.” “Oh.” “Do you have a betrothed?” “God, no.” JJ let out a short laugh. “Anyone my dad chose for me would be the last person I would want to marry.” “So there’s no one?” “Um, no. Just me and the Pogues.” “Kiara-” “No. Kie and I tried it out a while ago. Didn’t work.” “Oh.”    They fell silent again. “We should probably sleep,” JJ said. “John B is going to take you to Ward Cameron’s tomorrow.” “Yes, of course.” “Rafe is his son, so watch for him. I doubt he’ll say anything about how you kicked his ass, but just don’t go anywhere by yourself. Guy’s a psychopath, I swear.” Mera smiled into the darkness. “I’ll be careful.” “Night, Mera.” “Goodnight, JJ.”
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atiny-orbit1219 · 5 years ago
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*Pairing: Idol Johnny Suh
*Genre: Fluff (There isn’t enough Johnny fluff these days, y’all some horny bitches)
*Plot idea: Most idols do indeed have a private twitter account where they like to see what their fans are talking about and interact with them secretly. Johnny was one of those idols. He loved seeing what NCTzens were up to and found it flattering how many times they called him daddy and offered to let him choke them. One day as he was scrolling through his twitter feed he saw a tweet that caught his eye. “Who has the biggest dick?” in the poll list was his name, so he commented. “Johnny of course.”
*Word count: 3,600
*Warnings: Cussing, a lot of dick talk, so cliche like this could never happen
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Were you really going to post this? Is twitter fame really worth it? You were contemplating as you laid on the floor of your bedroom. Did you have a perfectly comfortable bed two inches away from you? Yes, yes you did, but you evoked your bed privileges as you typed up the tweet you knew would give you likes and comments but throw your morals out of the window. Your finger hovered over the large post button. You groaned, the hand clutching your phone falling to the ground. “I can’t.” you finally decided. It’s sexualizing men and as a feminist at heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What if some fanboy asked “Who has the biggest tits?” well the answer is Jihyo but ethically it isn’t right. He’d have his account suspended within hours. Even if your account is slowly dying you shouldn’t stoop so low. You looked up at the ceiling, your free hand resting on your stomach. You let out the long breath you didn’t know you were holding, since when did you become so desperate for the validation of people you’ve never even met in real life, so what if your follower numbers went down? So what if you’re only averaging fifteen likes per tweet? “That’s right? Why does it matter? It doesn’t… totally doesn’t.” You say to yourself, attempting to convince the voice in your head that is telling you to post the poll.
Maybe your finger slipped. Maybe you did it on purpose, you don’t really remember, the only thing you can see is your phone buzzing rapidly as the twitter notifications start coming. Within hours your “Who has the biggest dick?” Poll became your most viral tweet to date. With the options being Lucas, Johnny, Mingyu, and Mingi it was safe to say the comments were heated and the votes were split. You hated the fact that you liked seeing the likes and comments go up, were you a bad person for posting? Or are the people on twitter bad for engaging? You spent the rest of the night on your hardwood floor, bobby pins and wires digging into your back, but you deserved it. You even refused to look at your walls, too ashamed to face the NCT posters that were hung up neatly. Ever since you decided to join stan twitter you promised yourself you wouldn’t become one of those accounts who post just for attention, you just wanted to make friends who had the same interests as you. You got your first taste of twitter fame when you made a joke about idols having private twitters and seeing the horny tweets dedicated to them and it soon became addicting after that. Now that thought sent shivers down your spine and you prayed it wasn’t real as you have just become one of those thirsty tweets. Even as you close your eyes to sleep you can’t help but ignore the constant buzzing that came from your phone next to you. After a few moments of considering putting it on do not disturb you finally decided that is the best option. You lift your phone up, but before you can slide up to the options screen you see a comment that catches your eye. ‘Hands down Johnny of course’.
You tap on the account that posted the comment, the layout was borning and the username basic, but this person didn’t follow you and you didn’t follow them. You just shrug and go back to the comment, smiling softly despite yourself as you typed. ‘I don’t know… Have you seen Lucas’s hands?’ Lucas was currently winning with the votes and you couldn’t disagree, it makes sense. Not even five minutes after you replied you were sent a DM request from none other than the mysterious Johnny dick defender. ‘I think you’re mistaken, Johnny is definitely winning in that category ;)’ You couldn’t help but laugh, your thumbs gliding across the keyboard as you typed your response. ‘You’re very passionate about this, where’s your proof?’ You asked, waiting for his reply. ‘I think you just have to trust me on this one’ You scoffed and started to type, ‘My mom told me not to trust strangers on the internet’
‘Your mom is a smart woman. What’s your name?’
‘What makes you think I’ll tell you?’
‘Didn’t you join twitter to make friends? I can’t be your friend if I don’t know your name.’
‘I joined twitter to talk to more K-pop fans, I’m sorry but your coffee layout and username isn’t cutting it’
‘There what about now.’
You tilted your head slightly wondering what he changed his layout to and you had to stifle your laughter when you saw it. An entire layout of predebut Johnny and the username @John’sbigpenis. You covered your mouth, keeping your quiet giggles in as you went back to the chat, typing quickly with one hand.
‘Y/N’
‘It’s nice to meet you Y/N’
And just like that, you spent almost the entire night texting, you figured out his name is Jason and he just casually listened to K-pop but his friends were really into it and because he followed them your tweet landed on his feed. He was funny and had you smiling for so long your cheeks started to hurt, you haven’t had a conversation like this on twitter in awhile all of the group chats you joined slowly drying up, so this was a nice change. But eventually it became harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, the light from the screen not helping. You finally had to say good night to Jason and within seconds of shutting your phone off you passed out, not even feeling the discomfort of the floor anymore.
The next morning the first thing you did was check your DM’s and couldn’t help but smile as you saw the unread message. ‘Not to be a creep or anything but I looked at your location on your profile and looked up your timezone. Good morning :)’ You sat up slowly, the blanket you were using falling down your body, so he was in a different timezone? ‘What time is it for you then? Also good morning ;)’ As you awaited his response you finally got up from your spot on the floor and threw the blanket you were using on your bed. You walked to your wall blindly as you wiped the sleep from your eyes and flipped the switch causing light to fill your room. You sighed as you looked at your bed, contemplating just going back to sleep but you could also smell the breakfast your mom was making down stairs so you decided to manage your priorities, eat breakfast then go back to bed. After that important decision was made you made your way down stairs and as predicted saw your mom in the kitchen cooking away. You said your good mornings and lifted yourself up so you were sitting on the counter of the island. Your mom used to complain about your ass being where the food goes but after she saw that you didn’t care she slowly stopped as well. As you were sitting and chatting you felt your phone go off from your pocket, you grabbed it and smiled as you saw his user pop up. “What are you smiling about?” your mom asked curiously her eyes glancing over at you for a moment before going back to mixing the pancake batter. “Oh,nothing, just a friend on twitter.” You say your attention is still stuck to your phone as you read the message ‘I am a few hours ahead of you , I live in Chicago! Born and raised.’ You almost didn’t hear your mom speak, “Y/N… you know I don’t like you talking to strangers on the internet. What if they’re some forty year old man who just wants your feet pics.” You just nod, having had this conversation more than once. “Mommm you know I’m smarter than that… I’d make him pay for my feet first. But for real, this is the only way I can talk to other people who like the same stuff I do, unless you want to listen to me talk about K-pop for hours on end I need to get it out somehow.” You said, raising your eyebrow as you gave your mom the ultimatum. “Make your money honey, it's your feet not mine.” and with that you grabbed your plate and started to eat.
‘Ahhh so is that why you’re so defensive over Johnny’s penis? Gotta save the reputation of Chicago boys?’
Just like that you ended up talking to Jason everyday for weeks. From morning to night you two never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Soon he knew more about you than your close friends did; it was so easy to talk to him and he said he felt the same with you. He was there for you when you were having a mental breakdown while trying to get NCT 127 concert tickets, he was there while you screamed about how hot every member looked in the new Kick It music video, especially the man that brought them together, A.K.A Johnny Suh, he was there for everything. After awhile it was safe to say you were falling for him.. Well at least his personality, you haven’t seen his face. He’s seen yours of course as he hyped up all of your selca days, you respected the fact he didn’t want to show you his face but as time went on you couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. What if he really is a forty year old man only after your feet? But all of that soon changed.
‘You got P1 tickets to the Chicago concert right?’ You read the text that was sent to you and tilted your head curiously. You were currently packing for the three day trip your mom and you were taking to Chicago. You unfortunately lived in a state that always had zero tour stops and the closest city was Chicago and this was the first time your mom agreed to letting you go since she knew how much you loved NCT. But you guys decided to make a trip out of it and would be staying for a couple days after the concert. You started to type with one hand, messily folding clothes with the other. ‘Yep! I’m packing right now! I’m so excited!!’ You said truthfully before going back to practically shoving your multiple outfits into the suitcase. After a few moments you felt a buzz, ‘I’m going too-’ You didn’t even finish reading the text before your eyes opened wide and your stomach did flips. Jason was going to be there!! As you slowly started rethinking your outfit choices you finished the text. ‘Do you wanna meet up? I know this 24/7 cafe close to the venue.. We can meet after the concert? If you want?’ You were confused at first, why meet up after the concert in a separate location, but just the idea of meeting him made you consider it. ‘Why not before the concert at the venue?’ You asked, wanting a valid reason to meet up late at night at a cafe. You now completely gave up on trying to pack as you impatiently waited for his response. ‘I can’t get there until right before the concert starts because of work and it's always too crazy in the venue after. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it.. I just… really want to meet you.’ Just that line right there made your heart skip a beat. ‘I’ll ask my mom.’
It took quite a lot of convincing, your mom not liking the idea of meeting a stranger you met online one bit. But she also knew you were a responsible Young adult and always had your phone on you, plus she would be right there in case anything did happen. So finally you got the greenlight to meet him. You could barely believe it, not only were you going to see NCT 127 and go through Hi touch, you were going to meet the internet friend that you have been talking to everyday for a couple of months now.
~
You always knew that there were buildings in Chicago, but you didn’t expect them to be THIS big. It was the day of the concert and your mom and you were only a few minutes away from your hotel and you couldn’t wait until later tonight. Only a few more hours. You spent the majority of that time getting ready, you wore your favorite outfit and spent an extra long time on your make-up, making sure you didn’t look like you just got done with a nine hour car ride. The time went by fast yet slow, the feeling was weird, you couldn’t believe this was all actually happening. Yet soon enough you were in line to have your tickets scanned to enter the concert venue. You achieved the wristband for P1 and attempted the merch line but ended up having to say screw it as the concert was starting in ten minutes. You made it to your seat right before the room went dark and then it started.
Throughout the concert you were singing and dancing and crying, you were feeling so many emotions at once and you never wanted it to stop. You were too caught in the moment to notice the eyes that were on you almost every chance they got, he also couldn’t believe this was happening. As the final song played and you found yourself tearing up once again you looked for the man who started it all between you and Jason. You found Johnny singing on stage, was he…. Was he looking at you? Nah he's probably just scanning the crowd like most artists did, but you still couldn’t ignore the feelings his glance gave you.
You were in the line for Hi-touch, your hair and makeup miraculously still decent looking as you started walking forwards, following the people in front of you. In just a few moments they were right there, the only thing separating you was the table they sat behind. They looked the same as they did on your screen but in a way ten times better, they were real and your hand was touching theirs. You didn’t really know what to say and you didn’t have the time to say much, so you stuck with a simple hello and a smile. You approached the last member, Johnny was watching you the entire time you walked down, he just held up his hand and muttered 'heyas’ as you got closer. This was the first time he'd seen you up close and he had the same feeling you Had. Your pictures are beautiful but something about seeing you in real life was so much better. Your eyes met his as you had to reach up a bit more to touch his hand, he smiled down at you, not able to say anything before you had to move on and walk out of the building.
After recollecting yourself and fixing up your runny mascara from crying too much you and your mom headed to the cafe to meet Jason. Many thoughts swam through your head most of them just not able to get over how amazing they all looked up close but the rest were nerves on meeting the man you’ve grown to have feelings for. You reached the cafe and got out of the car, letting out a nervous breath as you walked in, the shop was empty and the worker behind the counter was almost asleep and jolted awake as you stepped in. You ordered a green tea because you felt like you should order something and not just sit down like a total bitch. After a few minutes your phone buzzed. ‘I’m on my way,, sorry I’m late. got caught in traffic.’ The butterflies in your stomach only grew in numbers as you replied, ‘I’m here, sitting in the back’.
You were sipping on your tea as you heard the door behind you open. You were too scared to face the door so you sat with your back to it, but only when it opened did you realize that it was much more nerve wracking. You couldn’t even turn around your hands shaking as you took deep breaths, you could hear footsteps approaching, Jason was here… and right behind you. He walked around your seat and sat across from you, you were too scared to lift your head so instead you stared at his chest. “Y/N?” his voice was deep… and familiar? You looked up and out of shock from what you saw your hot tea slipped right out of your hands. You hissed softly and reached for napkins but the man in front of you was quicker, he ran to your side and knelt down, using his sleeve to wipe your lap. “Sorry.. Should’ve thought that through.” He said with a small laugh. “You’re… Jason?” you asked, unable to believe it even if you were looking right at him. “Actually… my name's Johnny and we just high-fived like half an hour ago and I can explain everything.”
~
“So.. You have a private twitter and you found my tweet and commented as a joke but decided to start a conversation with me?” You asked, looking at the idol in front of you. You’ve pinched yourself at least ten times now but everytime hurts more than the last so it can’t be a dream. “I start casual conversations here and there with fans just to see how they’re doing but you’re just… different.” He said. He had on a black baseball cap that was lowered over his face so no one walking past could recognize him. “As we started talking more.. I started looking forward to talking to you and you practically got me through this comeback season, when I was stressed and tired, just talking to you let me take my mind off things… I dunno.. I think I really like you.” You were at a loss of words as you listened to Johnny speak. Were you trapped in some tumblr fanfiction? This can’t really be happening. “I… I really liked talking to you too… you were the first person I opened up to. Whether it was Jason or Johnny I’m really thankful for having them to rant to and if the person I was talking to really you… then I think I like you too.” You said softly and even behind the hat you could see Johnny smile. He moved over to your side of the booth and you scooted to give him some room. “Since we both think we like each other… Why don’t we kiss and find out?” He asked cheesily before leaning in, naturally you closed your eyes and when you felt his lips press against yours it finally set in that this was all real. You were kissing Johnny Suh from NCT, Johnny Suh was kissing you. You moved closer, placing your hands on his sides as his moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he allowed the kiss to last for a few more seconds before pulling away. “So… Do you know for sure yet? Because we can do that again if we need to.” He said playfully and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Just to make sure,” You whispered before grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him into another sweet kiss. He smiled against your lips, chuckling softly as he fully wraps his long arms around you. “Yeah… I definitely like you.” You said breathlessly as you pulled away and he nodded quickly in agreement. “Me too.” he said with a large smile. “You said you're here for a couple more days? Do you maybe wanna go on a date tomorrow? We don’t leave for the next venue until tomorrow night so we have all day.” He offered. You nodded, not planning on turning down THE Johnny Suh. “It’s a date.” You said softly and he couldn’t help but smile and kiss your cheek, and your nose, and finally your lips, “We have two months to make up for in one day.. I’m gonna make it count.” He said, his large body clinging on to you even when you weren’t kissing, and you definitely weren't complaining. But as you two were sitting there, you in his arms and head on his chest you thought of something.
“Wait a minute… if you weren’t in Chicago but Korea when texting me… When did you sleep??” You asked, looking up at him with concerned eyes and Johnny just laughed and tightened his arms around you. “Shhh… It was worth it.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Ahhhh! Sorry for the delay,, I started this one and I just wasn’t feeling it for the longest time, when I write dialogue I focus on body language so majority of this scenario being text was totally out of my comfort zone! But I hope you guys like this one! And thank you so much for the love on my first post it means a lot!
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youcanteatmysins · 4 years ago
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It's starting to get cold outside.
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The air is crisp and the sky is grey. The plant life, for the most part, have started turning to more lighter and paler colors. The lightest of greens and yellows brushing the very edges of trees and grass alike. This isn't too much different than most days on Coruscant, given the lack of natural life left in the area, but it is noticeable. There usually isn't much time these days for basking in the weather, but one sometimes has to stop and enjoy these little changes. It's nice, Obi-Wan thinks. He's been here, doing all sorts of duty related missions for the Jedi Council, for most of his life. It is easy to let the days, months, and seasons pass without as much as a thought, especially when you're having to fight an ongoing, never-ending, intergalactic war.
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Sometimes though, even as insignificant as it may seem, it's nice to stop and remember all the small things that happen around you that go unnoticed. One of those small things, is the scent of blended spices and legumes in the air. Sometimes the scent is more sweet with floral notes behind them, drawing the attention of many of the youth and elderly alike. Other times, it changes to a more bold scent, often there are notes of peppermint when the planet is at its coldest, or fruits such as shuura or meiloorun when the outside temperature is warmer. On occasions like these though, when the outside is barely starting to chill, is when the scent changes to his favorite blend spices; cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves.
Obi-Wan finds time, be it on more scarce occasion, to stop by the local caf shop in the morning. He isn't too picky, anything with enough caffeine to jolt his systems is usually enough. But this scent? This lovely aroma of blended spices enchanting him with its charm? He can't pass this up for a regular espresso.
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The shop isn't packed in this particular hour of the morning. About one and half hours after the caf shop opens and people are headed to their respective duties, it gets quiet. This is usually when Obi-Wan likes to show up.
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Upon entering, there is a small bucket and a sign reading "please donate to your local shelter!" What kind of shelter? Obi-Wan thinks as he walks fully into the shop. The inside of the caf shop is layered with different shades of mute purples and browns, small 2-4 person tables are dotted to the left side of the entrance and two sofas line the wall. The relaxing atmosphere and caf filled aroma already makes Obi-Wan feel more ready for the day he is preparing to take on.
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"Hello there" Obi-Wan greets the mikkian on the other side of the counter. The barista, who is tending to the pastries displayed on the counter beside the register, looks up to greet the man in front of them.
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"Hi! What can I get for you this morning?"
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"Can I have a pumpkin spice latte?"
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"Of coarse! Anything else I could get for you?"
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As Obi-Wan goes over in his mind if he is forgetting anything, he remembers Anakin complaining this morning about going to class, as well as the fact that Anakin would be upset with him if he found out he had gotten this sweet caf without him.
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"Yes, can I make that two please? And that will be all"
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"Sure thing! Will be ready in just a moment"
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As Obi-Wan waited for his order, he began to reminisce on how his day was going, and what needed to be done for the rest of it.
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Today wasn't terribly busy, actually far from it. It was one of the few days Obi-Wan had a few extra hours to spare for himself before picking Anakin back up from his classes. He wasn't really used to it these days, having to spend hours alone. Ever since his master had given him the responsibility of teaching Anakin, he was used to either having him around to keep the mood light or having other Jedi masters around to discuss their duties. He had recently picked up teaching Anakin how to play Sabacc; since the boy was already 16, he'd figured he would need the knowledge incase one of their missions required they gamble their way through it. He seemed to look forward to coming out of his classes to play the game, and Obi-Wan took comfort in that fact. There must be a lot of stress on that boy, with the war and his training, but at least he could enjoy these few things. Plus he got to talk with Anakin when they played. Sometimes he could even get Anakin to share some of his stresses with him, which made Obi-Wan feel better about his role as his master and guardian. Before they could sit down and play sabacc though, duties came first.
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Anakin went to his classes from early on to the evening, and while Obi-Wan was usually busy during this time, he found he had a 3 hour gap in his schedule today. He decided to spend the first hour at the local library, remembering that he'd been needing to find a new book to read. Yes, the temple had a library of its own that Jedi can borrow and read books from, but there's only so much history and biographies one can handle; he wanted something new. It wasn’t too far, just about a 10 minute ride from the temple on a speeder. After spending an hour weighing his options of books and chatting with the librarian (who has a fine taste in literature), he decided on getting something warm to sip on and going to the local park.
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Obi-Wan was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard "Here you go sir, your order is ready." He realized he had been standing by the counter and was starring off at the wall opposite of himself. His felt a slight bit of heat form on his cheeks.
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"Thank you so much" Obi-Wan said as he turned to grab his coffees. He placed 10 credits in the barista's hand before asking "Oh and what kind of shelter is the sign for?" The barista looked confused for a moment before turning to the sign at the front entrance. "Oh! Yes that is for the local animal shelter. Since there isn't much plant life on Coruscant anymore, the shelter has taken in any animals that have been found wandering the streets, since of coarse they don't have the means necessary anymore for survival here."
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An animal shelter? Obi-Wan is surprised. He hasn't ever heard of an animal shelter on Coruscant before.
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"Sounds lovely. I'm glad someone has taken care of what's left of natural life on this planet. Such a shame that they even had to leave." Obi-Wan, coffee's in hand, dropped a few credits into the bucket.
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"Thank you! Have a wonderful day" And with that, Obi-Wan was headed to the park.
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Obi-Wan arrived at the park and, out of habit, went straight for his favorite reading spot. It was on the outskirts of the park, a place particularly picked out for the fact that hardly anyone ever bothered to venture off there. He sat under one of the large trees, making sure the sunlight would reach his book, and started reading.
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About 20 minutes in, his mind started wandering. The parks were lively and chirping with people. Tourists coming to see Coruscant and locals just spending the day out with their families filled the sidewalks and fields. It was something that Obi-Wan found warmth and pride in. He was never really given a choice to join the order, and although he curses himself for it, he sometimes wonders where he would be if he was. What kind of life would he be living, or would he be living at all? Would he still have gone to the order, or would he be elsewhere? The toll it had taken out of him, from the loss of his master to the toll on his mind and heart from the war, was he really meant for this? He ached everyday he couldn’t tell himself he was. That this was something good and he was doing the right thing by being a part of it. Looking around at these people, seeing children running and laughing, people enjoying something as simple as an ice cream as they walk freely about the city, Obi-Wan was able to make it possible. He was fighting a war for this. For these people. He liked to think that anyway. The idea gave him comfort and some sort of ground as he went off to help fight an impossibly long wa-
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Something was off.
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He felt something watching him, or someone.
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Obi-Wan lowered his book only to jump about an inch off the ground in surprise, as there was someone he foolishly almost didn't recognize standing but 3 feet in front of him.
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"And the fates speak again" The figure said. He knew that voice.
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Oh
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What a good time for his mind to remind him of how the man in front of him looked. The man, in which fate had decided, who he had crossed paths with far too many times to count by now. His red and black skin so smooth and intricate with design, sometimes too difficult to break away from its alluring pattern. His hard-to-hide-under-a-hood horns that somehow add to his charming figure. Those eyes, oh those eyes of his that haunt his dreams and daily trains of thought. How they take hold of Obi-Wan and keep him captive. Eyes so deep with stories and scars, watching him as they burn holes into him.
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"Maul" Obi-Wan had muttered out, surprised to see the zabrak here in the busy Coruscanti park. "Aren't you a delightful surprise" Obi-Wan said sarcastically, although he feels he somewhat means it.
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Maul was the last person he'd expected to see here. The last time Obi-Wan saw him was on his last mission about 2 weeks ago, which took place on a cargo ship hiding slaves going to some spice mines. Apparently Maul was there on his own mission to steal some of the supplies off the ship, and hadn't known about the slaves. Not like Maul cared much about the slaves though.
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Obi-Wan placed a bookmarker on the page he left off at and fully closed the book. Maul was staring at him calmly, not showing any signs of being hostile, but not entirely friendly either. He was always unreadable though, so even if he was plotting Obi-Wans demise, he wouldn't be able to tell just by looks. Come to think of it, Maul and him hadn't been hostile towards each other for a long time now. Ever since Maul had uncharacteristically declared he had only wanted to spar with him and had no interest in killing him anymore (about 4 years after Naboo), they'd been slowly growing on each other. Or at least Maul has been growing on him, even in this current situation.
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"I can say the same to you" Maul said as he smirked.
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Obi-Wan knew he felt flustered, but that didn't mean he wanted to look it. He met the other man's eyes and focused on keeping his exterior calm and collected, no matter how he felt. Why was Maul here in the first place? Actually, bigger question, why was he standing front of him? He looked around for his caf and gabbed the extra one; he'd remember to buy another one for Anakin later.
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"Do you like coffee?" Obi-Wan said, offering the cup of still hot but not unbearably so caf. Maul looked at the cup and back at Obi-Wan, probably searching for malice in his expression as proof of it being poisoned, before taking the cup into his hands. Obi-Wan patted the ground next to him.
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"Would you stay to chat for a bit?" Obi-Wan said. Maul eyed the spot where he had patted. "If you're not busy that is." After a thorough inspection of the area he was invited into, he finally sat down next to him. "So what brings you here?" Obi-Wan asked, both out of genuine curiosity and suspicion that he's up to no good. Before Maul answered, he lifted his caf to his lips, sniffed, and took a sip. Obi-Wan watched him with interest, wondering if the man would even be used to the spices. Maul held a blank expression, starring into the cup he just sipped from.
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"…" Maul took another sip from the drink and rested his elbows on his knees, avoiding Obi-Wans gaze and instead settling for looking to his right, the shapes of people in the distance squirming in his vision. "It's… adequate. I still don't understand why you people indulge in these sorts of things. But to answer your question, I'm here on a small smuggling mission."
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Since the zabrak was sitting so close to him, Maul's words hummed in the air between them, that strangely beautiful voice reaching his chest and warming him from the inside out. Obi-Wan felt himself relax at the sound. Fuck him for having such a damned soothing voice. Wait. What did Maul say?
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Obi-Wan, being distracted by the sound of the other mans voice, didn't hear a thing that was said to him. Luckily it didn't look as though Maul minded much.
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"How much was this caf?" Maul asked, still not looking at him. "I think about 5 republic credits each, but if you're counting the amount to the local animal shelter, then 30."
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At this Maul did turn to look at him. Obi-Wan looked back at him to notice his lips curled slightly in a smug expression. "Thank you for you're contribution" Maul said in a just as smug voice. Obi-Wan was confused. "Do you own an animal shelter?" He said incredulously. Since when did Maul of all people care about animals? The other took a moment to think before answering. "Partially. I don't own the front, but I own the business in the back. I told you I was here for a smuggling run." At that Obi-Wan chuckled. "I knew you were up to no good. Why would you tell me that? I could tell the authorities and you wouldn't know"
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Maul starred at him, studying him almost. They stayed like that for a while. "You wouldn't." He said this confidently. It was Obi-Wans turn to stare off into the distance. "I guess you're right."
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He heard Maul chuckle. "Oh, what the Jedi would think of you."
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"What they would think indeed."
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_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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They sat and chatted for a little while before Obi-Wan stood up.
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"I have to go pick up Anakin soon, I better get going." He looked at Maul, who was still sitting in the same spot as when he first arrived, drink now empty. "Will I be seeing you around?"
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Maul looked thoughful for a moment. "I don't leave for anothed week from now"
.
Obi-Wan took that as a yes, and in turn, for a reason he couldn't pinpoint, made him hopeful. "Well, if you have any free time this week, send me a message and I can show you some more kinds of caf I think you'd enjoy." As Obi-Wan said this, he handed Maul a slip of paper with his comm number on it. Then he blushed, if only just slightly, while saying "It's to my personal comm link, so nobody can see the messages but me." Maul took the slip of paper and held it up, reading the contents of what Obi-Wan claimed to be his number.
.
"I'll see you around, Maul." And with that, Obi-Wan left the park and never looked back, too embarrassed to see what Mauls reaction was.
I know it's not anywhere near october, but I thought this was a nice prompt and I really wanted to do it so here you go, hope you enjoy
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alegacyofmikalsons · 5 years ago
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The Act of Living Chp. 3: A Link of Fate
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Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has read and supported this, I've loved seeing your reactions to what is happening. As you can see this chapter is a flashback, I want to include some of these to give some background context for why Sera has the relationship to all of them that she does. I also wanna include some other important moments from her past that don't involve them as well. I'll probably be including these every three to four chapters, depending on where it would make sense to put this in the story.
I've already started the next chapter so hopefully it won't take quite as long to finish as these ones have. 
Rating: Mature
Series Summary: Klaus and Elijah were supposed to die, but fate in the form of new friends Serafina Hewitt and her sister Stevie intervened. A year later Stevie is dead and Sera returns to New Orleans to see her friends and investigate her suspicions about what happened. When it’s confirmed that a powerful hunter group is responsible, she realizes a much bigger threat is coming, one that threatens all of New Orleans. As they race to stop it, she gets more than she bargained for, finding the truth about who she is and a growing attachment towards a certain Mikalson. Most importantly, they all get answers to the biggest riddle of all: what the act of living really means. 
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/874712498-the-act-of-living-chapter-3-a-link-of-fate
@kinda-iconic​ @endlesshero1122​ @bbchoices​ @katelynnicolerollins​ @im-a-bisexual-mess​
If anyone else wants to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know and I’l add you!
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New Orleans, LA - 2019
The streets teemed with locals and tourists alike as I searched for any signs of potential danger. In New Orleans, there was plenty to look out for. There were the normal creeps looking for a harmless young woman to bring home and the rogue vampire who didn't want to wait until midnight to obtain their refill. However, the thing that concerned me the most was the group of hunters who wanted me dead more than any other powerful being. While not a typical threat here, if they ever learned how important this place was to me they could become one.
"Are you sure we should be out here?" I asked.
Hearing a sigh, I finally glance over in time to catch my sister rolling her eyes. "Uh yes. Taking part in the nightlife here is practically a requirement."
We slowed to a stop as she looked at one of the bars along the street, Rousseau's.
"Says the person whose ID is fake?" I crossed my arms raising an eyebrow.
"Oh come on, that hasn't mattered before." When my expression didn't waver, she gave me a pout. "Come on. Don't be such a Debbie Downer Sera! We'll be fine, especially if I stay by you."
Letting out a sharp exhale, I muttered, "That's what everyone in Mirebrook thought too until Nemean showed up."
Until I gave my heart to the worst person I could have.
I didn't say that part out loud but, judging by the scowl forming on Stevie's face, I didn't have to.
"No," she stated, shaking her head adamantly. "We are not bringing them up, especially not James. In fact, you aren't going to think about them for the rest of this trip. It's not like they're going to follow us here. Even if they do, there aren't any large events this weekend for them to crash. So, let's just get out of that overactive mind of yours and have a good time. Who knows when we'll be able to come back."
This didn't ease my anxiety entirely, but she did make a dent in it. She was also right. I did love being in New Orleans again after twelve years. As soon as we drove into the city limits, I felt like I was returning home, something Mirebrook hadn't felt like in years.
"Fine," I told her after a minute. "But, we're leaving before midnight. You know what happens then. And if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming it on you."
A contagious grin spread across her face. "Deal. Now, is this place fine or should we walk further?"
I read the sign above the door once more turning my attention to the inside. I remembered it being popular when I was here last, at least with the underage crowd since they were pretty lenient. However, I was barely in high school when we left so, I didn't get to join in much. Most of the few parties I attended were in the Bayou.
"Yeah, this is fine," I told her with a nod. "Let's go before I change my mind."
Following her inside, the bar is already filled to the brim with loud conversations and dancing. After a minute, we were able to snag the last two open seats at the counter. I took the time to examine the surrounding scene. Everyone seemed to be having a good time with a live band playing a jazz tune.
"Sorry about the wait," I heard the bartender shout over the noise. Quickly, I turned back around to find her eyes carefully trained on us. "I'll have to see some ID, you both look a little young."
We both handed them over without a fuss. It didn't take much time at all for her to return Stevie's fake with a nod. However, when she got to my genuine card she paused, looking back and forth in disbelief.
I traded a knowing look with my sister. Ever since I was a teenager, I appeared younger than my real age, the difference becoming more prominent as I got older.
Finally, after another minute, the woman returned my card shaking her head. "Well, I'm not quite sure I believe it but, it looks legit"
"Yeah, I know. I get that a lot," I replied with a shrug. "It certainly isn't the strangest thing to find in this city."
The lady at the counter suppressed a laugh. "It definitely isn't. Anyway, what can I get you, ladies?"
"Rum and coke please," Stevie said, excitement tingling in her veins.
"And I'll have a Vieux Carre."
It was the Big Easy after all. But there was another sentimental reason why I picked the whiskey cocktail, it was our dad's signature. Since this trip was to honor him a year after his death, it felt right.
"Interesting choice. I'll have those ready as soon as I can. In the meantime, enjoy the entertainment. It's open mic tonight."
She turned away to make our drinks and I sighed, focusing my attention back on the stage where a man sprang up with a lively grin. As he approached the microphone, I raised my eyebrows.
Marcel Gerard.
Our parents talked about him frequently when we still lived here since he was running the supernatural scene. He implemented the rule banning witches from practicing magic, keeping Stevie from studying her spells for a few years and me from using dark magic. However, unlike many at the time, our parents didn't really protest the rule out in the open. While they didn't particularly like it, they understood where it was coming from, that the witches' added fuel to the ever-burning flame among the different factions. That ability to see every side is something they instilled in us and that I took to heart. So, Marcel often came to them when he needed a favor requiring magic, giving our family an exception in return.
"How's it going?" he exclaimed, causing the small crowd to cheer. "Who's ready for some music?"
Hearing the bartender shout that our drinks were ready, I took mine from the counter with a courteous smile. "Thanks."
Bringing the glass to my lips, I was surprised to find myself enjoying more than expected as I let it linger on my tongue. In fact, the more I tasted it, the more it became my new favorite.
Looking over, I noticed Stevie's face scrunched up in disgust. "Don't tell me you actually like that."
"What can I say," I answered, gladly having another sip. "Dad had good taste."
I frowned for a moment before shaking it off. This wasn't supposed to be sad, he wouldn't want that. As I scanned the masses of people, I couldn't help tapping to the beat. Music has always been a passion of mine since it was one of the few things I did that felt effortless. It was more feeling than thinking. Which, for my overactive mind was a needed comfort. Soon, only half of my drink was left and I willed myself to slow down, remembering to pace myself. My tolerance was high but, it wasn't roofless.
"Come, let's dance!" Stevie shouted, hopping off her stool.
I debated turning her down but, then I remembered I was supposed to be having a good time. Sighing, I stood up and took my drink with me.
"Oh, why not."
Wading through the crowd we managed to get ourselves relatively close to the stage. With a giggle, she spun me around, catching me off guard for a split second. She was definitely more buzzed than I was but, then again, she was a bit more of a lightweight and had less experience.
"Hey, take it easy, I am not losing my drink." I told her, trying not to encourage her antics with my laughter. "Or breaking a glass."
"You're no fun," she complained but, let go of my arm.
I rolled my eyes, continuing to dance on my own until the song ended. Pausing, I took a deep breath as my heart raced with an electric feeling. I hadn't been this happy in ages, not like this anyway. Realizing Stevie was no longer beside me, I glanced around a little concerned.
Then, I heard her voice shout from the other side of the dance floor. "Vincent!"
At the name I turned to see her approaching a long time friend of our parents, our dad especially. Smiling, I quickly made my way over being careful not to bump into anyone. When I arrived, I found them deep in conversation.
"Last time you were here, you were about this short and had bright pink braces," he told her.
She scowled, her nose wrinkling at the end. "Ugh, I'd like to forget that ever happened, thank you."
"That is definitely not going to happen, Stevie," I chimed in. "He's seen you in diapers. Something I didn't even get to witness."
Turning in my direction, the grin on his face widened. "Sera. It is sure good to see you in person."
I got pulled into a tight hug that filled me with nostalgia.
"It's good to see you too Vincent," I said once we separated. "Only took a death to bring us back."
A sad look entered his eyes and he swallowed. He and our dad were friends since they were both kids. "I still can't believe he's gone. It's been, what a year now?"
Vincent watched both of us grow up at least somewhat. In fact, he was the reason I was adopted at all. It was him I met first when he stopped by the foster home to donate some supplies. Then, my parents showed up the following week. I didn't know until years later that he was the one who encouraged them to do so. Without him, my whole life would be completely different.
Biting my lip I nodded. "Yeah, it certainly doesn't feel like it."
"Is Mary not here?" he asked, scanning the bar surrounding us.
Our mother.
"No, she didn't feel like coming with us tonight," I replied. "Not really her scene. But, she did plan for all of us to come to visit tomorrow. I hope that's okay."
His expression brightened once more. "Of course it is. She actually already ran it by me the other day, wanted to make sure I would be available. Tell her I look forward to seeing her."
"I will." Taking another sip of my drink, I asked, "So, are you here with anyone, or are you drinking by yourself?"
Hesitating, Vincent ran a hand along the back of his neck. "I'm actually meeting up with...a family I know. The one I've complained about before."
Suppressing a smirk, I remarked, "Ah, so they're what...frenemies?"
"You could say that. One of them invited me and I couldn't really say no. She can be a bit persuasive."
I raised my eyebrows in interest. "Oh, I hope we're not keeping you from them."
"You're not, I'm still waiting for them to arrive," he replied with a half-hearted chuckle. "Actually, why don't you can stick around and I'll introduce them to you. You actually might get along which would be very helpful for me."
I let out an aggravated sigh. "Vince, I am not going to be your pawn for ass-kissing. I have to do that enough at home, I do not need more." However, I found myself becoming curious about these acquaintances. "But, I will meet them, only because I want to. From what you've told me, they sound interesting."
"Yeah, that's...definitely a word for it. More like dangerous and cruel when provoked."
Well, now I was definitely interested. "Is that supposed to make me dislike them? Because it is not working. I can be like that if the impulses take over, you know that. That doesn't necessarilly make me a bad person."
He flashed a disapproving look at me. He always tried to steer me away from the dark energy's effect on my desires. I didn't necessarily love that part of myself either but, I'd accepted its presence a while ago. It was a part of who I was. Plus, the more I used it, the more I learned to control it.
A wave of cheering and applause erupted around us and I looked just in time to see the person currently onstage finishing their song.
Marcel hopped back up as the noise died down slightly. "We'll be taking a five-minute break but, after that, since there are no more names on the list here, anyone can come up to play something."
Vincent glanced in that direction before giving me a grin. "You should go up there Sera."
"What, me?" I stammered as a subtle warmth grew in my cheeks. Then, I shook my head, mild anxiety coursing through me. "I don't...not in front of all these people."
It wasn't a lack of confidence that held me back, but the prospect of being noticed because that led to prejudice. During my childhood and adolescence, most of the attention I received from strangers and acquaintances were for things I didn't want to be known for. Actions I couldn't control. It was easier to be invisible, without any expectations or labels being placed on me. I wanted to be able to choose how moral I wanted to be, without the restriction of reputation.
"Come on sis," Stevie exclaimed, her eyes pleading once more. "You have the voice of a goddess. One of these days you're going to have to let the world hear it. Plus, I know how much you enjoy it."
I pressed my lips together. "That's not..." Once again this evening, the lessons I've given her on rhetoric backfired. "I don't even have an instrument with me."
Vincent shrugged this off, the determination now fierce in his eyes. "That's not a problem. The guitar up there is for anyone to use."
Looking back at the stage, I found what he was referring to and let out a silent gasp. It was one of the nicest ones I'd ever seen. The wood was a beautiful brown color with black on the edges. It was of good quality and the right amount of worn-in too. As soon as I saw it, my fingers itched with the temptation to pick it up.
"I see that look Sera," he said, snapping me out of my daze. "Do it for me will you? I haven't heard you live yet, just the recordings your parents sent me."
I peered back at the stage, as my resolve began to dissolve. The desire to create, that euphoric feeling, it tugged until I had to say yes. It was one of the more common ways my blood influenced me.
After a minute, I sighed. "Oh, alright. One song."
Stevie let out another squeal, spinning me around until I was slightly dizzy. "I win again." Setting me down, her gaze turned bittersweet for a second. "Will you sing one of Dad's favorites?"
I found myself swallowing a dry lump as I nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."
Clearing my throat, I finish off the last of my drink, handing the glass to her. Then, I approached the stage, nerves crawling all over my stomach. The person with the clipboard, a boy around my age, looked up with a sloppy grin. His eyes roamed my figure appreciatively. Instinctively, I tensed ever so slightly.
"Well hello, to you. Interested?" he crooned, tilting his head towards the small stage. His hair was slicked back with too much gel that it needed.
He reminded me a little too much of J...no. I needed to stop thinking about him. About what he did.
Feigning a smile, I nodded. "I am. What do I have to do?"
"Just sign here with your name and the song you're doing," he said, his words blurring together. "You'll be up first when we resume things."
I simply took the pencil from him and jotted the information down. "Anything else?"
"Nope, just wait here until we call for you. Won't be too long." He leaned in, more than a little too close for comfort. "You have a vibe, you know. Mysterious, dark. I like it."
"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I quipped deliberately taking a step back. "Let me save you some effort, I'm not interested."
He responded by letting out a chuckle. "Oh come on, I won't disappoint. At least let me buy you a drink." He inched forward once more, even closer than last time.
Strong coils of dread seized my stomach as the urge to do something violent took over.
"What part of 'I'm not interested' don't you understand?" I hissed with a glare.
Making sure no one was paying attention, I kept my eyes on him as I concentrated on the dark energy lying in my veins until it stirred ever so slightly. His smirk vanished as his eyes widened, no doubt noticing how my eyes had darkened and the orange glow.
"What the--?" Before he could finish his face contorted in visible pain as the blood boiled beneath his skin. "Ow!"
I continued for a little longer then released him to gasp and shudder. "Keep your hands to yourself, and we won't have any more problems. Is that clear?"
He let out an agonized groan. "Yes, I got it, thank you."
"Good." Smiling, I walked away to the other side of the stage to wait.
"Okay everyone, who's ready for more music?" Marcel eventually exclaimed setting off a loud cheer. "Now up onstage we have, Serafina Hewitt, singing Neon Moon."
Taking a deep breath, I climbed up on the black platform and grabbed the guitar from the hand, slipping it around me. Feeling the comfort of the instrument in my hands I relaxed enough to approach the microphone with a nervous smile.
"This is for my dad, Anthony Hewitt," I said, my voice wavering.
I pulled up the stool at the back of the stage and sat down, adjusting the mic stand until it sat perfectly in line an inch or so away. I took out the pic I always kept in the pocket of my jeans, mainly as a good luck charm, and placed my hands in the right position. Searching the bar, I found my sister and Vincent who were now at the counter joined by several people. They had to be the family he wanted me to meet. This made the nerves increase but, I pushed past them.
Closing my eyes, I strummed the first chords. "When the sun goes down on my side of town, that lonesome feeling comes to my door, and the whole world...turns blue. And there's a run down bar across the railroad tracks, I got a table for two way in the back...where I sit alone...and I think of losing you. I spend most every night beneath the light of a neon moon." I felt myself smile and start to let go as the chorus came in fully. "If you lose your one and only, there's always room here for the lonely. To watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon."
Now, I as I looked out, the stares of the people listening didn't matter anymore. Everything drowned out except me and the music until all too soon, I approached the end.
"To watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon." I played the last note, letting it reverberate in silence.
Once it died, I sat back with a smile as people began to clap enthusiastically. It made me a bit sheepish but, not as terrified as I was in Mirebrook whenever I played at the local café.
"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night." I placed everything back where I found it and climbed down to reunite with Stevie and Vincent.
After a minute, I finally made it through.
"Okay Vince you were right," I said.
He looked in my direction his grin straining his cheeks. "Sera, that was amazing. Had the whole place in the palm of your hand."
"Thanks," I responded, tucking a loose strand behind my ear.
Once again I soon found Stevie's arms wrapped around tightly threatening to cut off my air supply. "I knew you would kill it!"
"And you are killing my lungs right now," I wheezed, and she immediately let go.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it! You were just so good."
Laughing dryly, I remarked, "Yeah, I know you can't help depriving me of oxygen."
As she stuck her tongue out at me, I turned my attention to the people I'd noticed earlier speaking to themselves. Now that I had a good look at their faces, I knew I'd seen them before, in my head. Not from my memories but theirs. After a beat, I realized with surprise who they were.
Oh my god. The Mikalsons.
I knew their story well, anyone who grew up within a school for the mystic did. But, the other version I received painted a more holistic, human picture of them. The two certainly had similarities, such as the endless number of people they'd killed over the centuries. But, they also had differences. I started receiving their memories back in high school after we started to cover them in supernatural history. The first was a painful one from ages ago, probably around the time they first were turned. The intensity of it all woke me up, and I'd been unable to stop thinking about it the rest of the night and following morning. Then, in class that afternoon, I began to question what they were telling me. I wondered just how much information was hyperbolic.
After that, I continued to see them almost daily until the end of that unit. After that, they occasionally showed up though it was only once every few months now. Strangely, I didn't mind. For some reason, I felt like I could sometimes relate to what they went through. Balancing the different parts of yourself, having this darkness that sometimes took over. Even letting it when it was easier to forget you had a heart.
I caught myself staring, and I blinked, willing myself to look away before one of them noticed. The last thing I wanted to do was make them feel uncomfortable. I decided that I'd wait to judge them until we talked. Lord knows I would love someone to look past the demon blood and destructive powers for once.
Glancing at Vincent once more, I raised my eyebrows in interest. "So, Vince, you promised me an introduction to these friends of yours, did you not?"
"I did," he replied. "Let's see, we have Freya, Rebekah, Kol, Elijah, and last but not the least Klaus." I followed along silently as he named each of them. "And this is Serafina. She's Tony and Mary's other daughter."
"The adopted one I presume?" Klaus commented, his grin widening.
He received a punch on the arm from Rebekah. "Nik! You can't just say that. Excuse my brother he has the manners of a two-year-old."
I shrugged it off.
"Oh it's fine," I answered with a laugh. "It's something I don't mind people pointing out. It doesn't make a difference they're the only family I've really had."
"I presume you don't know your birth parents then?" Elijah observed in mild curiosity.
Getting lost in his inquisitive stare, it was a minute before I responded. "I don't know anything about them really."
I scolded myself for being so flustered all of a sudden. Though I had to admit, his eyes were captivating, even more in person. I snapped out of it, noticing the smirk on his face.
"Except that, at least one of them isn't human, right? Or did that poor fellow suffer an aneurysm all by himself?"
So much for being subtle. At least I didn't have to feel guilty about my knowledge of them. Hearing Stevie snickering next to me, I pursed my lips.
"No, that was me," I admitted freely. "Though I figured it was that or breaking his hand when he put it on me without my permission."
This received some more laughter from his siblings and even an impressed look from Rebekah. "Sounds like the bastard deserved it then."
I found myself smiling at this. No wonder Vincent couldn't get rid of them.
"I sure thought so." I returned my gaze to Elijah. "Now, I'm guessing what you really want to know is what I am."
He opened his mouth then closed it. "You could say that. Usually, it's a bit more noticeable. Vampire I'm guessing?"
"Demon, actually," I answered. "Well, a half-blooded one anyway, but that just means we work up here, on Earth. We absorb malevolent souls which transports them to Hell. It also gives us a little more power for a short amount of time."
He almost choked on his drink, his eyebrows raised once more. "Demon...I knew you existed but I don't think we've ever met one."
I feigned shock. "Even with that thousand-year life span? That's...a bit surprising," I replied with a smug look.
Now he was the flustered one which only increased the satisfaction.
"Ah, so you do know who we are," Klaus laughed.
I scoffed loudly. "Of course I do, you're the Mikalsons. What supernaturally gifted person hasn't? I mean you're taught in schools now these days." I ignored Vincent's cautionary stare. "I just didn't feel the need to point it out until now."
"There's no need to be shy love," he chuckled to himself. "Most people make it known either in disgust or fear."
Shrugging, I remarked, "Yes, well, I try not to be like most people. And from outside research, I know the people who wrote the story of you have a bit of a bias. So, while my lessons were entertaining, they haven't influenced too much." The stranger sitting on the barstool next to Freya left and I immediately took his place. "See, not bothered. In fact, I kinda like you. Now, I'm gonna need another drink."
This was met with an array of smiles including from Elijah. "The feeling's mutual."
There's no way I could be Vincent's little spy now. It was an innate pull as if the universe wanted to forge a link between us, a link of fate. However, I wouldn't know why until years later. When the thing that I once hated would prove to be exactly what they needed.
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sm-entertain-me · 6 years ago
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Savior
Contains: Smut, adult language, Min Yoongi x (f) reader
Synopsis: When you’re being hassled at a local bar, a man clad in dark clothing as dark as his eyes fills the position of being your savior.
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God, being in this bar was probably the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time, and you’ve had your fair share of mistakes. The music was being played way too loud for you to even enjoy the experience, the alcohol was cheap and tasted so, the women in here were just looking for some guys to take them home, and you were just trying to unwind since you had such a hard day at work. Your boss has constantly been on your ass for your procrastination of a semi-important briefing and threatened to fire you if you didn’t get your shit together. Your friends had miraculously gotten “super busy” last minute and flaked, even though they already knew how much you hated your day by the amount of complaint filled texts you had sent them throughout the day. 
Sighing, your hands gripped tightly at the neck of the beer bottle, wincing as you threw your head back to finish the rest since it tasted so bad. Of course, the only beer they sold at the bar that you’ve heard of was Keystone Light, and we all know how shitty that tastes. Your eyes flickered around the bar, taking in the rather drab scene. Most of the guys in the bar were crowded over the pool table because they had place bets on who would win the matches, a few ladies in super short skirts hanging onto their arms and acting like they were interested so they could score a few free drinks. You scoffed at the desperate scene unfolding in front of you as you got the bartender’s attention, signalling that you wanted one more beer before heading back out. Instead, the bartender pulled out a shot glass and set it down in front of you while he filled it with a clear liquid that reeked of tequila. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you looked at the bartender in confusion, silently asking him why he would give you tequila instead of the drink you requested in the first place. The bartender set the bottle back into its place on the shelf and pushed the glass in front of you, then motioning down the line at a group of men who were smiling at you, “They wanted to buy you a drink. My guess is they got you tequila to make it easier to get into your pants. But you seem like you can handle yourself by the way you double fisted those beers earlier.”
Reluctantly, your hands gripped the glass and brought it slowly to your lips, but not before you said thank you to the bartender as you were raised with common decency as a human being. Your eyes shot to the two men who held their beer to their lips, their eyes never faltering from yours as they winked at you after they had raised their beer bottles to you. Of course, you didn’t want to seem rude, so you gave them a half-assed smile and knocked the shot back, the cold liquid burning intensely as it rushed down your throat. A small cough escaped your lips as you slammed the glass upside down on the counter, telling the bartender you didn’t want anything else as you paid for the three beers you had tonight. He asked if you had planned on driving home, concern lining his voice, but you assured him that you only lived a couple minutes away so you wouldn’t be on the road. It’s not like you were drunk either, just a little buzzed. That tequila shot was really the thing that pushed you over the edge to become buzzed and you didn’t like the feeling, so that’s why you made the decision to leave the bar. But as you were leaving, you felt a hand grab your wrist a little more tightly than you would’ve liked.
Turning your body slightly, you came face to face with one of the guys who had bought you the tequila shot. “Can I help you?” You seethed at him, yanking your arm out of his grip since you weren’t too keen on random strangers grabbing you, especially at one in the morning and when you were slightly buzzed. The man had sandy blonde hair that reached over his ears and he had stark blue eyes that glistened at you. He seemed like the kind of guy you would normally go for had he not invaded your personal space. “Well I bought you a drink so I feel like you owe me some kind of conversation before you just up and leave,” The guy said, a rude tone hiding in his voice accompanied by the hardened look he gave you. Taken aback, you continued to walk out the door as you spoke to him over your shoulder, “I don’t owe you a damn thing. You decided to buy that drink for me so you could get into my pants. Now leave me alone. Thanks for the drink though.”
Well, he didn’t really like that response and he yanked you back into the bar and pinned you against the wall, his hot breath reeking of alcohol attacking your cheek. Anger filled his eyes as he glowered at you, his hands on either side of your neck as he had no intention of letting you leave without getting something he wanted out of you. His teeth were gritted as he glared at your cheek since you had turned away from him, terrified, “I’m not fucking letting you leave. I bought that drink for you and you’re going to give me your number or else.” You turned your head to face him to see if he was being serious, and serious he was as his stare could easily pierce through you like daggers. You could feel your throat tightening as you became frightened at what the man might do to you, and no one in the bar seemed to care that you were in a very compromising position. “Or else what?” A deep voice sounded from behind the man, the body belonging to the voice being slightly hidden from the man’s stature blocking your view. The man who was holding you prisoner turned around slightly, coming face to face with the man who had come to your rescue, “Fuck off Yoongi, this one’s mine.” The man addressed as Yoongi had eyes as cold as ice as he glared at the guy with such intense hatred that you were convinced he was going to kill him, but softened his stare slightly as he bent around the guy and looked at how frightened you were, “She doesn’t look like she wants to be yours. Matter of fact, she looks like she wants to get the fuck away from you.”
The guy who pinned you against the wall earlier focused all of his attention on Yoongi, yelling and cursing at him, throwing empty threats at Yoongi as they seemed to bounce off of him with no effect at all. Yoongi rolled his eyes at the guy and moved swiftly as his patience had finally ran out, grabbing the guy by his shirt collar and slamming him against the wall just mere inches from where you were standing. Finally, you could see Yoongi clearly as he stood next to you, his brown hair contained in a backwards snap back as he adorned a black leather jacket, a simple white tee shirt, black ripped jeans, and black leather boots; embodying the epitome of a bad boy. Yoongi’s jaw was locked tight as he glared into the man’s eyes, his grip tightening slightly around his collar so that it started to cut off circulation as he had him raised slightly off of the ground, “If I ever see you harassing another woman in my bar again, I will bash your teeth in so fucking hard that you’ll be swallowing teeth for a week, you understand me?” The guy trembled underneath Yoongi’s grasp as he managed to squeak out, “Y-Yes.” Yoongi finally decided to let the guy drop to the ground after releasing his collar, glowering down at him and drawing his fist back as if to punch him but ended up being satisfied by the way the once intimidating man quaked in his shoes, “Good. Now get out of my bar.” Yoongi didn’t have to tell him twice as the man ran out of the bar as if he was running for his life, you turning your attention to the man who possibly just saved your life.
Although his actions should’ve frightened you far worse than the guy before you, you found yourself intrigued by the man who now stood in front of you. Yoongi’s eyes were dark and unforgiving, his lips forming a small pout even though he wasn’t showing any hint of emotion in his face, his skin a white crystalline hue underneath the dim lights of the bar and it contrasted sharply with how dark his outfit was. “Are you alright?” Yoongi’s deep voice called out to you, snatching you back into reality and allowing your thoughts to fade away. Your eyes raised from the floor and met with his dull brown ones, nodding slowly at his question, “I think so...” His hands reached out and placed themselves softly onto your shoulders so not as to make you feel threatened after the extremely terrifying situation you were just put through, “Are you sure? Do you want me to take you home?” You normally would’ve denied such a request since you were much too stubborn to allow people to do you a favor if you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself, but that’s the thing. You were not perfectly capable of walking yourself home in fear of that guy finding you again. Nodding slowly at Yoongi’s second question, his hands dropped from your shoulders as he returned your nod and held the door open for you so he could escort you to his car to take you home.
The car ride was pretty quiet as he played some music to try and calm your nerves, you staring out the window of the car and watched how the moonlight cascaded down on the trees lining the road leading to your house. Yoongi would look over at you occasionally, his mouth parting slightly to say something but then choosing not to say anything, fearing he might ask the wrong kind of question at the time. He could pick up on social cues pretty well and could sense that you weren’t really in the mood to talk by the way your hands were gripping tightly at your knee caps and how you held your phone with a death grip just in case he would try something on you. But in reality, you really wanted to strike up a conversation with him but didn’t exactly know how to since it would probably end up being awkward for the both of you. Your eyes would travel from the outdoors to looking at his big hand on the steering wheel while the other was resting against his forehead, him leaning back in the seat as he drove, listening to your directions and looking for your house intently so that he could make sure you got home safely. From his hands, your eyes traveled to how his jawline was accented by the moon light, seeming as if his jawline was sculpted by the gods themselves as you were convinced you could slice some vegetables on how sharp it really was. 
“Is this you?” Yoongi asked you as he stopped suddenly at a small house with no lights on, looking over at you and you looking away from him quickly as you were afraid he would catch you staring at his jawline. Hoping that the red hue on your face wasn’t as obvious as it felt on your cheeks, you leaned over and looked at the house number, nodding at his question, “Yep, this is me.” Yoongi nodded as he got out of the car and rounded over to your side, opening the door for you to get out, smiling softly at you in another attempt to calm your nerves. You thanked him for holding the door open as you stood awkwardly outside of his car, wondering if he were just going to disappear into the night without a single goodbye. Instead, Yoongi insisted on walking you to your door so he could rest easy at night knowing that he did all he could to protect you from any malicious activity that might go on tonight. He was convinced that the guy wouldn’t have followed you guys, but he wanted to make sure by walking you to your door and checking all around, being on the defensive just in case. You, however, admired how protective he had become of you since he scared the guy at the bar shitless, taking you under his wing and wanting to make sure you were safe. On the outside, Yoongi seemed like the guy who would just let you leave the bar immediately and never check up on you, not really caring how you felt about anything, but there’s just something about him that makes you think otherwise.
Maybe it was the way his body remained close to yours as he led you up your stairs to your front door, his hand resting on the small of your back to assure how safe you were when he was next to you. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you as you fumbled with your keys to try and unlock the door, you looking over at him with an embarrassed smile and apologizing over and over for taking so long and prolonging him leaving you. Yoongi chuckled at your incessant apologizing, telling you it was okay and that he really didn’t mind it since he had no place to be at the moment except maybe in his bed. “Do you... Do you want to come in?” You asked as you had finally managed to get the door open, waiting to see if he would accept your offer since you really wanted him to come in so you could get to know him better. Yoongi flicked his wrist to look at his expensive looking watch that hung loosely around his wrist, proceeding to shrug his shoulders and accept as he helped you push the door open wide enough so the both of you could fit through the doorway.
“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you’ve done for me tonight. I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t come along. You have no idea how grateful I am for you,” You said, showering Yoongi with praises as you had joined him on the couch, the two of you sitting on opposite ends. A smile fell onto his face as he looked down at the beer you had given him, “Of course. You were a beautiful lady in trouble and I don’t take kindly to guys who force themselves on women simply because they said no. I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left you.” Yoongi then threw his head back as he finished off the rest of the beer and set it on the coaster on the end table, waiting for you to finish yours before leaving because that may have been perceived as rude if he left any sooner. You didn’t know if it was due to the fact that you were buzzed but you could find yourself becoming slightly turned on by the way Yoongi would look at you with such intensity and how his voice sounded when he talked to you, causing you to gulp hard when he pushed himself up from the couch and allowing his hand to graze your leg slightly in the process. As Yoongi walked away from you and entered the kitchen to throw his beer bottle into the recycling, you decided to follow him both for making sure he didn’t steal anything from your house and to look at him some more. He had already taken his leather jacket off so you were admiring the way his shirt clung to his back muscles and how wide his shoulders were, you feeling your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to suppress the deep sigh escaping your lips.
“See something you like?” Yoongi said playfully at you as he turned around to face you, you leaning up against the doorway and clasping the nearly empty beer bottle in one hand. A smile worked its way onto your face as you nodded in a goofy way, the alcohol in your system speaking for you at this point. But let’s face it, you knew you loved what you saw in Yoongi. The bad boy attitude while also being extremely kind to you was something you enjoyed very much. “Well come here and you can see even more,” Yoongi teased as he invited you to be in his arms, holding out his arms wide for you to crawl into his grasp. Slinking over to him, you found your way into his embrace and set the beer bottle down to the side of him, his hands wrapping around your waist as he looked longingly down at you due to his slightly taller build than yours. His eyes managed to soften over the course of the night as he smiled at you, causing your heart to leap in your chest. Yoongi leaned down to kiss you, filled by his liquid courage. As your lips crashed together, you could feel yourself becoming victim to however he wanted to touch you, his hands roaming your lower back and cupping your ass to force a moan out of your lips. Yoongi pulled away to look at you, wiggling his eyebrows before he spoke, “So, you wanna...?” A goofy smile branded your face as you nodded quickly, pulling his shirt collar towards you to force your lips back onto his, Yoongi gripping your waist as he flipped you around and pressed against you.
The way Yoongi leaned into your body was something you had never experienced before, feeling how passionate he was despite the fact he was slightly intoxicated. But you didn’t care as your tongues danced with one another, the taste of alcohol remaining on both of your tongues as they washed over each other, Yoongi becoming bold and nipping at your lips playfully but also to see how loudly you could moan into his mouth. Whenever you did, his hands would wrap around your back and push you toward him so he could get even more contact with you, you feeling his erection growing against your thigh. Your hands were woven tightly into his hair as you pushed your whole body against his, but Yoongi lifted you up onto the counter so that your legs could easily wrap around his waist, him pressing his hardened cock up against your screaming heat. The wetness from your sex was hardly being contained by your shorts as you could feel yourself becoming wetter by the way Yoongi’s hands gripped your ass hard, pushing your body against him so that there was no possible space between your hot bodies. You took it upon yourself to grind your hips onto his dick, a low growl escaping Yoongi’s lips that turned you on even more, responding accordingly by grinding even harder into him. “Take off your pants,” Yoongi commanded at you as his hands were already fumbling with his pants so he didn’t have to feel the pain of his jeans straining from his dick. In your drunken stupor, you took off everything because of how hot your body was getting from how turned on you were getting. Yoongi pushed you lightly so that your back was on the top of your counter and your legs fell lightly over the edge, waiting to see what he would do next.
“Fuck!” You squealed out as Yoongi had used his tongue to trail up from your inner thigh to your glistening folds, occasionally licking the inner most part of your upper thigh and biting down lightly to tease you. Your pussy was begging for Yoongi’s tongue as you tried to buck your hips up to reach his pouty lips, but he would pull away playfully pull away to show you who was in charge and would only lick you when he wanted. Instead, his fingers were the first to play with you, one of his fingers sliding into you while his thumb tended to the need of your red, swollen clit that begged for some kind of stimulation. Yoongi smirked down at you as he watched your face begin to twist in pleasure from his fingers alone, finally dropping his face in between your thighs. You looked down at him while he maintained strict eye contact with you, winking as his tongue licked greedily up your folds, flicking mercilessly at your clit. Your hands found their way into his brown locks again as you brought yourself close to his tongue, grinding your hips against his talented tongue to get the kind of touch you craved.
After the minutes of intense licking and sucking of your swollen clit, lapping up of any liquid from your folds, and filling of your dripping wet entrance with his thick, pink muscle, Yoongi finally relieved you of the torture and decided to finally give you the type of attention you needed. Yoongi pulled you up lightly so that your back was no longer against the cold material of your counter as he pulled you over the edge a little more to have you sit and watch for what he did next. He finally pulled his boxers off and kicked them to join the rest of the clothes you had thrown on the ground, revealing his throbbing cock with the red head already spurting two thick beads of precum in anticipation for the wild fucking he was determined to give you. “You’re so big,” You blurted out to him, your eyes widening at how big he really was and wondering if you could take him all in one go. You would soon find out for yourself.
Yoongi made sure to be gentle as he pulled your legs around his waist, lining his cock up with your entrance that was begging to be filled. He licked his hand and rubbed his cock, tracing his thumb over the head to pull the precum down the length of his shaft to allow for more lubrication, as if the liquid pouring out of you onto the counter beneath you wasn’t indication enough for the two of you. With that, Yoongi slid into you with ease, filling you up to your full capacity as a groan escaped his lips from how tight your walls felt around him. Yoongi relished at the feeling of your tight, extremely wet walls gripping onto his cock as he began to take slow, drawn out thrusts so you could get used to him inside of you. He wrapped his arms around you again and pulled your torso up to him so he could feel your soft lips on his again, offering a slight distraction so he could speed up his thrusts into you without it being too painful. The minute amount of pain you felt when he would pull all the way out of you and slam himself back into you to hit the start of your cervix was well worth the intense pleasure you were feeling from the angle he had you at while fucking you nice and deep. Whenever he would slam back into you, he would come in contact with your special spot, every time he did would earn him a loud moan from your lips into his mouth as you two made out while he fucked you.
“Oh god don’t stop!” You cried out as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, gripping his skin so hard that your fingernails would leave small crescent like shapes in his skin. Yoongi’s thrusts were at top speed now as he thrust as deep as he could, your breasts bouncing wildly from the speed he found to be pleasurable for the both of you. “Baby, I’m gonna... Gonna cum real soon,” Yoongi admitted as his face was buried into you shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin in an attempt to hinder the impending orgasm he would surely feel. His lips found your neck and placed wet, open mouthed kisses and would continued his attack on your neck every time you would mutter his name or moan out loudly, either one would earn you the same punishment. The coil in your stomach was staring to unwind as you spoke out through perfectly time and placed thrusts from Yoongi, “I’m gonna cum too, baby. Keep going! It feels so good!” You could feel Yoongi’s lips form a smile against your neck as he tightened his grip on your waist to stabilize you as he thrust the deepest he could inside of you, his cock no longer visible to either of you every time he thrust into you, coming out completely wet with your essence, and then slammed back in. Oh god, you were close.
The coil in your stomach was threatening to unwind with every thrust Yoongi made into you, but wouldn’t come undone just yet. That was, until Yoongi took one of his hands and circled your aching clit with his thumb with his unforgiving thrusts inside of you. This is when you felt your walls beginning to tighten around his cock, twitching and throbbing uncontrollably inside of you, your walls trying their hardest to milk his dick dry of any cum he was holding inside of him. With the buck of your hips and a scream of his name, your slick walls clenched tightly around his cock, feeling every part of his throbbing cock inside of you. Yoongi’s cock could feel how wet you really were as your walls were gripping greedily at his member, forcing him over the edge as well. He thrust one final time inside of you, calling out your name as his cum sprang free from his cock, coating your walls with his thick white substance. Yoongi’s eyes were screwed tightly as he repeated your name over and over like it was his favorite prayer while simultaneously thrusting slowly to ride out both of your highs, calming yourselves down as best his could. 
Your nails no longer dug into his skin as you let them fall to the small of his back, resting your chin in the crook of his neck and breathing heavily in an attempt to return you back to normal. Yoongi released his grip on your ass and pulled his thumb away from your clit, collapsing into your arms as you struggled to keep him up, laughing slightly at his reaction. Your laugh proved to be infectious as Yoongi joined you, chuckling against your shoulder and allowing both of your bodies to shake from the laughter. Yoongi pulled himself away from you and cupped your face into his hand, tracing a small circle with his thumb on your cheek. You smiled a shy smile as your eyes met with his, “This is one hell of a thank you, isn’t it?” Another adorable chuckle fell from his lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him so your head resting against his chest to feel how fast his heart rate was, “I guess you can call me your Savior now.”
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reading-hub · 5 years ago
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Dandy And The Jet 🚀 [2] Bar Fights, Baby!
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- Space Dandy x reader -
[part 1] [part 3]
- - - - - - -
After transported from Dr. Gel's ship, I finally reached the targets next location. Looking around my surroundings, apparently, this Dandy guy was on his way to some sleazy alien bar.
Walking straight to the front door, the locals surrounding the place here were as shady as they come. Cheeky con aliens looking for their next sucker, prostitutes out in the open without a care in the world, muscular alien bikers that were almost seven feet tall who meant business and I mean really mean it!
The inside of the bar was warm but almost lack oxygen with so many creatures inside because of the insane amount huddled together like sardines, a human-like me wouldn't be noticed right off the bat. Unless I tried to engage in conversation with anyone. The floor was sticky - I swore some large blue alien got knocked over and couldn't get his face off the tile when he landed face first.
Luckily, a few seats in front of the bar itself weren't taken. I sat down. Once I did, a tall slim pink alien woman with three tentacles came to my seat. She was friendly but frightening to look at first glance. She brightly smiled at me with multiple small sharp rows of dark yellow teeth.
I ask for a simple Flaming Indigo, it was this purple colored alcoholic beverage that I kinda enjoyed to pass the time. It tasted of grape soda and coke and a hint of strong cinnamon from the fire that lit up before you drank it.
The barista served my drink in a matter of seconds. I stared down at the purple fizzles inside the cup and gulped it down. I asked to keep them coming while waiting for this Space Dandy.
What felt like hours, I told the alien barista to cut it with the drinks for a bit. A couple of people left the bar, so it was down to a fair few, no more crowds bumping into.
I heard the door sway open, I saw what it appeared to be him. Large slicked back pompadour, sideburns, varsity jacket, metal soles that clink. Just like Dr. Gel described.
The others were I'm guessing his group, a Betelgeusian and a small two-wheeled robot.
I tried to lay low, not seem like I'm staring at them so closely. Instead, I tried to stare down at my half-empty glass. I heard footsteps approach next to me unexpectedly, it was him and his crew. Dandy sat next to me, unaware I was next to him.
"I can't believe that the alien we caught was just some shape-shifter!" hearing the alien cat groan in stress. Dandy shook off his complaint. "Eh, it happens. Hey waitress! How about a drink for my pet over here!" Dandy cried out. "Hey! I'm not your pet!" I heard right after.
Dandy laughed it off and stopped suddenly. "Hey, do you by any chance have a locator with ya, mine kinda broke." I almost choked on my drink.
"Are you talking to me?" I asked, puzzled."Yeah, sorry for scaring you like that, hun." Did he just call me hun? Oh well, just play along.
"Than yeah, I have one."
"Oh sweet! See Meow, our luck is turning after all!" He moved his excitement to his cat friend. His friend named Meow just rolled his eyes in response.
"Any drinks your interested in this afternoon, sir?" The waitress from early asked. "Uhh, yeah.." Dandy was looking around until he spotted my drink.
"I'll have what she's having!" He pointed at me. I looked at him as though he was crazy. He saw my reaction, "You don't mind, right?"
Keeping my cool all I can say was, "Not at all." Showing a warm smile. "Cool." He said simply right after.
Before the waitress passed his drink, I felt a large figure approaching us. Stomps were vibrating the ground and our drinks. I was hesitating on fighting whoever was asking for it...
The stomps stopped right behind Dandy. My eyes cornered seeing a large red-orange alien, their hair was in a Mohawk, cliche I know but true. And judging by the black leather coat, he was one of the fearsome, tough bikers from outside.
"Excuse me, but your sitting in my seat.."
I heard Dandy's crew were freaking out in the sidelines, praying for Dandy not to die. I'm guessing they were thinking of either running away to the ship or stay and watch their leader get beaten to a pulp. Either way, something bad was about to unfold.
Dandy didn't even look back at the guy, he just sipped his drink without care! He probably thought he was some alien, but I think the logic would judge by the raspy voice that this large guy had was no one to fuck with. I'm gonna take a short wild guess that Dandy isn't exactly the smartest in the crew.
Crap.
"Sorry, but I took this seat first." Dandy, not sure if this is the time to act high and mighty. If he saw who he was talking to, he probably would've given up his seat in a matter of seconds.
The biker alien grabbed Dandy by the shoulders, hoisted him up like it was nothing. Turn his small form around to see a close up of his face. And being the few people who got a front-row seat, that was a face only a mother could love...
I couldn’t let Dandy die. I had to bring him to Dr. Gel or Admiral Perry alive. But that would mean I would have to break my nice, human attitude loose now if I really wanted him alive at the end of this task. Oh, fuck this.
I looked at my drink and saw it was empty now. Right on time.
I stood from my seat, smashed the rim of the glass on the hard bar counter. I took the now open sharp glass and used it to stab the alien biker on its thick skull. A bit over the top and extreme but punches wouldn’t get this guy to loosen Dandy.
It winced in pain and let go of Dandy, dropping him on the floor. As the large alien was crying in pain and trying to yank off the glass cup off his skull, I kicked as hard as I could on his side and made him fall onto the three tables that were next to him. Making it hard to get back up, and giving me some time to drag Dandy and his crew to safety.
"Come on you idiot!" He looked at me shocked, so did his friends but I didn't care. Getting impatient, I just grabbed both his hands to get him up faster. Pulling him away from the bar, his crew followed along by his cat friend holding that small robot from earlier and running behind me.
I quickly turn to Dandy as we were running. "Where’s your ship!" I urgently asked him. He was studdering at first but quickly regained his composure. "It's over there!" He pointed a few feet away which looked like a lot when running away from a huge biker alien that was capable of whatever the fuck, which I did not plan on finding out!
It was the large yellow canoe ship of some sort. I immediately pushed all three inside the ship and went straight to the now-closed front window, seeing the alien running toward us with that a glass shard still in his skull. How the hell is he still able to walk after that?!
I immediately turned my head to Dandy, seeing him still lounging on the floor. "We gotta move!" He and his crew looked at me in question. I jumped onto the main seat, good thing I at least knew the basics of piloting a ship, like when to go fast as you can as a huge alien is chasing us down as we speak!!
"Listen, lady, I--!" Before Dandy could finish his sentence, the front of the ship was forcibly grabbed suddenly. I saw that the biker from earlier was holding a grudge and wouldn't give up on it.
"Oh geez! He caught us like we're fish or something!" The alien cat cried out. “EEEE!!" The tiny robot cried after in autotune.
"Relax, I got this!" I immediately tried engaging the boosters as much as I can so this guy can let go as we rocket the fuck outta here. I concentrated until it was the right the time to let go and having all the booster bars full. Hearing Dandy and his crew telling me to hurry up because the alien was trying to break the glass frame.
Two bars, Meow was crying out and holding the robot.
Three bars, Dandy was crying out and tried to force me to start the ship now.
Four
Five, I blasted the ship right into the billboard sign, where that alien got impacted onto in seconds. We finally made it through. I heard silence now, guess it was lecture time. I put the ship on autopilot and faced Huey, Dewey, and Louie.
"What?" I asked them. Dandy seemed more offended than the other two. "What'ya mean what? No stranger is allowed to use the ship unless it's QT our robot here."
"You do remember that I saved you, right? You know, thanks for saving me from a seven feet tall alien that could've beaten me in juices." I defended myself.
"See Meow, this is exactly why I rarely take women in my crew unless I'm doing them in the behind." Meow and QT were looking back and forth to each other, back to Dandy.
"I don't know man, I mean she did save you, we saw it," Meow said simply. "Adding on, she has sharp and quick combat skills that none of us have in this group." QT agreed.
Dandy looked at them as though they were entirely different people. "Crew meeting now!"
Meow, QT and Dandy went to a different room. You were still standing in the pilot room, looking where the ship will take next.
"What exactly are you two saying by 'group' and 'adding'?" Dandy asked, directly at QT who he quoted said line. QT responded. “I'm saying she would be a great addition to the crew, no offense Dandy, but when was the last time you shot anything with that ray gun of yours?" Dandy felt offended. How can QT bring up his poor marksmanship like that, especially since he would assume that she would be better at shooting than he would!
But, that robot is right. She would be a good use for the team for a little while... Dandy thought.
"Yeah, I like her!" Meow jumped in. "She seems cool and did you see how badass she was when she saved you from that guy! We thought you were gonna die this time."
It's so nice to know that my crew did not think I would live today.
"Alright, alright, cool it!" Dandy said to pipe them down. They looked at Dandy, waiting for what he was gonna say next.
Maybe it was time to finally have a female member in the group. Meow and QT seemed esthetic about her being here already, Other than Dandy kind of. Dandy just looked back in the small window seeing her.
She was good at starting Aloha Ole with no hesitation, and she saved my ass back there, and hot while doing it.
Although now that I'm looking at her backside a bit, she does have a body that she's comfortable with having. I'd give her booty a 7/10 at most. Something that I wouldn't mind looking at when bored but also wouldn't get too distracted by in a serious and tough situation.
What felt like painstaking minutes for Dandy to respond, he finally spoke.
“She...she can stay."
All three of them finally left the other room and went to where she was. Hands in Dandy’s pocket, sucking up with what he had to say but needed to!
"I'm sorry." Her eyebrows rose a little but not too much. "Miss, would you like to be apart of the Space Dandy crew?" Meow and QT were silently pleading in the sidelines.
Her face lit up a little bit. She mentally check-marked the first step of the mission. She never thought she’d get this far already, she mainly expected to stealthily east drop places to see them. But hey, crazy luck. Realizing they were waiting for a response, she spoke. "Alright, I always did wanted to be part of a crew." She shrugged.
Both Meow and QT wanted to celebrate that a new member was finally accepted.
Meow and QT cheered on and quickly had the idea of celebrating a new member for a 'celebration snack'?
They left soon after, meanwhile, she was left with Dandy alone, standing a few feet away from each other. Let awkward silence ensue.
"I'm sorry for saying that your a stranger and taking you from... behind." Dandy looked down, a little bit ashamed for what he said earlier. Not expecting Meow and QT to leave that fast.
"It's fine, I mean, I technically am a stranger to you guys and that last part is none of my business and I shouldn't judge you for that as a person." Someone that understands his pervy tendencies and is hot! Dandy actually doesn’t regret letting her stay now...
Before they can end this awkward back and forth conversation and calling it a night. Dandy forgot the crucial part of getting to know someone.
“By the way, I didn't catch your name?"
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turnaboutwriter · 6 years ago
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If you're still writing minifics, would you consider an ikarishipping one? Love your Safe Travels and Bluebells fics and hope you update soon!!
Thank you! Anyway, this one needs a little context before I can dive right in — this summer in the ikarishipping discord, we were talking about an AU where where Brock is not the part of the traveling trio in the DP Series, but Paul is. So here are some brief glimpses (yeah, there’s more than one minific here; really it’s a collection) into that scenario, because I don’t have enough ideas to craft a full story. If you’re interested, I’ll be posting this on AO3 and (maybe) FFN and an appendix with little tidbits about the AU that couldn’t make it into the minifics at the end!
READ W/ APPENDIX: AO3
U-Turn - After making its attack, the user rushes back to switch places with a party Pokémon in waiting.
“Tch. Fine. Have it your way,” Paul grumbles to his Murkrow, whose beak is turned away defiantly from the poffin in his hand.
A sweet giggle comes from beside him. “Hey! Come on, guys, one at a time!” Hmph. Dawn’s Pokémon — and his and Ash’s, for that matter — are all over her poffins.
“Aww, c’mon, buddy! Mine can’t be as bad as Paul’s!”
“Pika … ” Pikachu looks apologetic as he makes a face at the taste of the burnt poffin in his mouth, before scampering to Dawn.
Murkrow, too, looks intrigued by the crowd forming around Dawn. “Krow!” he declares, before flying to her side like the rest of Paul and Ash’s Pokémon have.
“Aww, man … “ Ash bows down in defeat, before he looks back up, determined to prove his Pokémon wrong by trying one for himself. But as his Pokémon have indicated, he finds the taste to be awful, making a gagging sound and spitting it out into the nearest trash can.
Paul grimaces at the scene, but then turns back to his starter Pokémon, the only one who hasn’t flocked to Dawn’s poffins, and holds a poffin out to him. But Torterra, too, simply shakes his head, before moving to Dawn.
He lets out a sigh. He knew this was a bad idea — he told Dawn that making poffins was not something in his range — and questions why he listened to her pathetic idea in the first place.
.
He hates it every time she wears that stupid, short, and very pink outfit for his and Ash’s gym battles. He doesn’t need a cheerleader, and he especially doesn’t need her carrying pompoms.
.
Paul catches her curled up and crying to herself the night she loses the Solaceon Contest.
Dawn lifts her head up as he approaches her, sensing his presence.
Without looking at him, she whispers, “I’ve lost in only the appeals round two contests in a row.” From the soft glow of the bonfire starting to burn out, he sees tears rolling down her cheeks. She sniffles, but makes no move to wipe away the tears.
Paul stares at her wordlessly.
She whips her head up to him. “Why are you quiet?!” she cries. “Aren’t you going to say something? Tell me how pathetic I am like you normally do!” When he offers no response again, she lowers her head. “Forget it,” she mumbles, her eyes averting his. “It’s not your business to deal with, anyway.”
“ … You’re trying too hard to make your Pokémon look good.”
Surprised, Dawn looks up at him through her tears, with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh?”
“Isn’t a coordinator supposed to help enhance how good a Pokémon already looks?” he continues. There is no stern expression on his face like she expected, but, instead, a blank face. “You don’t appear to be very confident in how good they look. That’s not fair to them.”
It takes her a moment to process his words — she’s still in shock that he’s speaking her her. With a start, she she realizes that he’s right. Her mind begins to run through her mistakes during training and the past two contests, but Paul’s low murmur breaks her out of her thoughts.
“You need to have more confidence in your Pokémon … and in yourself.” He holds out a hand to her.
Dawn’s not a bad coordinator — in fact, Paul has learned many techniques through watching her contest battles — but, even to him, it is clear that she still has a lot to learn.
She quickly brushes away her tears with a hand before nodding.  With a newfound confidence, she takes his hand and allows him to help her up.
Since that day, he has pushed her to do better, in his own silent but supportive way.
A few days later, when she battles Maylene, the gym leader he deemed pathetic after crushing her in battle, Paul intently watches them display their strength on the sidelines with Reggie and Ash.
He gains a newfound respect for both Maylene and Dawn after that.
.
The corners of his lips twitch, threatening to turn upward.
He used to be completely uninterested by contests, and in fact, refused to come and see Ash and Dawn in the Jubilife City contest, until Dawn forced him to watch her participate in the Floaroma Contest. Impressed by how she handled her Pachirisu’s stage fright, he decided to continue attending her contests with Ash. Since then, he has learned many techniques from her — including counter-shield and evasion.
Next to him, Zoey — Dawn’s rival and friend, one he finds to be a nosy pest — and Ash cheer.
She did it. She won the Wallace Cup.
An unfamiliar feeling of pride bubbles up in his chest, and now he’s actually giving off a small smile, unable to suppress it any longer.
.
Paul holds some disdain for Ash and his training techniques, but has learned to tolerate him. Sure, they have their disagreements, but Dawn (who Paul gets along with the most), manages to mediate and helps them to understand that they are two different persons … not to mention that they happen to battle it out a lot as a way to see who is the stronger trainer. It is obvious to anyone that sees them fight on the battlefield that Ash and Paul clash in an equal battle of strength and power, each with their own radically different ideals.
Surprisingly though, it is with Dawn who Paul fights the most.
Whereas he mostly fights with Ash over major things that differentiate them as trainers, he and Dawn usually fight over little things when they travel — she’s loud and troublesome with no sense of direction (and a Togekiss who has his Honchkrow smitten), and he’s a grouch who is always in a rush to get to where he needs to be (and hates it when she spoils his Pokémon with her poffins).
There are times, though, where they have more serious fights, where Dawn will yell and maybe cry as well, and Paul will disappear for the remainder of the day (though he tends to do that when he gets into a more serious disagreement with Ash, too).
During the times he wanders off on his own, Paul wonders why he listened to Reggie and Professor Rowan’s idea in the first place and decided to travel with Ash and Dawn, but the thought of separating from them — and to his surprise, especially Dawn — unsettles him.
In the beginning, he clearly remembers trying to keep to his own, promising himself that after the first gym, he would part ways with them. Dawn and Ash were too rambunctious and distracting to travel with, anyway. There were always needless stops along the way and irritations like Team Rocket popping up were all a waste of Paul’s time.
And he nearly did leave after beating the Oreburgh Gym, but curiosity killed the Delcatty, since he decided to watch Ash’s first and second matches against Roark — though the second time was to examine the strength of Roark’s newly-evolved Rampardos. He planned to depart the day after Ash’s victory, but Dawn struggled to catch a Pachirisu, and then, that hunter, J, swiped his Elekid and Ash’s Pikachu, and then, they ran into a Coordinator with a very powerful Magikarp that all three of them were unable to defeat in battle …
Somewhere in between all of the events that grounded him to the group and made him stay, the lines he had so carefully drawn blurred, and he got used to having them by his side.
And that’s what brings him back to Ash and Dawn at the end of the day, and quietly resolve his disagreements with them.
.
The opened refrigerator greets her with a burst of cool air. Ignoring the shiver that runs down her arms, she immediately reaches for the orange juice.
“Huh? Orange juice? Who drinks that?”
With her hands on her hips, Dawn rolls her eyes at Ash. “Paul, of course!” she immediately answers. And then, her cheeks flame, realizing how attentive she has become to Paul’s likes and dislikes.
Isn’t that normal, though? she questions internally, seeing her reddened cheeks in the reflection of the refrigerator door. She’s been traveling with Paul and Ash for quite a few months now. Surely, it’s normal to know their favorite juice by now. But when she tries to think of what Ash’s favorite juice is, her mind draws a blank.
Why is it that she has subconsciously been focused on Paul more than Ash?
Averting her eyes from her reflection, she makes a mental note to learn what Ash’s favorite juice is.
.
“You battled well, Paul,” she says softly to Paul. She’s never seen such burning passion in his eyes before, and, frankly, it unsettles her a bit.
He jolts, turning away from his intent gaze on the Battle Pyramid and scowls at her. “I don’t need your pity. I lost today, but I will win against him next time.”
The pain she sees clouding in his stormy grey eyes also worries her.  
(She will find out the estranged, paternal relationship Brandon has with Paul is what lies beneath that pain — but only two years later in Kanto, a few nights before Paul’s final battle against the man.)
.
“I’m going to challenge Paul to a battle now. If I manage to win…”
“Then, what?”
“Then, Dawn, I want you and I to go on a journey together.”
“Journey?” She’s thoroughly surprised at this.
“I know this is out of nowhere, but I had to tell you how I feel!”
Paul, leaning against a nearby tree, watches as Kenny runs away and Dawn calls out after him.
He’s never liked Kenny.
During Flint and Jasmine’s battle, he, Dawn, and Ash were discussing Flint’s defensive style, when Paul noticed Kenny looking over Dawn — in his eyes, Paul easily identified envy.
And then those envy-filled eyes met Paul’s.
Paul will admit it to himself that afterwards, he leaned over to engage Dawn in further conversation regarding Jasmine’s Steelix, just to spite Kenny.
With the glare Kenny shot him in that moment, Paul got the feeling that Kenny’s never liked him either.
.
“When does Buneary’s Poké Chic campaign finish?” Paul asks Dawn quietly, as they watch the ship depart the port in the sunset. They have just bid Ash farewell, as he has gone back home to Kanto.
“Huh?” She turns to look at him, confusion crossing her face. “Um, in two weeks. Why do you ask?”
“I’m going to Hoenn in a few weeks. Come with me.”
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reyloforcebalance · 6 years ago
Text
Bonded Chapter 32: Head and Heart
The newest chapter to my Reylo fanfic (rated T). If you want to check out the previous chapters, here’s the link to AO3!
“Wait…” Colonel Vaden leans over the table. “None of them went off?”
“None.” General Petrov sits back in his chair.  
“But…” Colonel Russo turns to the General. “What about the explosion on the South side? Wasn’t that one of them?”
“No.” Petrov shakes his head. “That was just some of the scum trying to escape, blocking off our troops so they could weasel their way out of the mines.” He grunts. “We caught them halfway to the Silver, neutralized them.”
Vaden narrows his eyes.
“So…” He starts slowly. “What happened? They just malfunctioned? All of them?”
“Well, that’s the interesting part.” Petrov sits up now. “According to the explosives team, they were diffused.”
“Diffused?” Vaden cocks his head.
“That’s the report.”
“And it wasn’t them?” Russo scoots forward. “It wasn’t your team?”
“Definitely not.” Petrov turns his head. “The first thing they did when we cracked into the base was go straight into the mines. But by the time they got there…” He lifts a hand.  
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Russo looks down.
“Or maybe it does.” Petrov turns to the colonel.
“How?” Russo demands. “There was no one down there who could’ve done such a thing.”
“No one…?” The General raises an eyebrow.
Vaden scoffs.
“Are you suggesting…” He leans in with air of condescension. “That the slaves diffused the bombs?”
“Who else could it have been?”
“Really?” Russo grunts. “You think those gutter rats are even capable?”
“Maybe.” Petrov shrugs. “It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“But…” Vaden flits his head. “Even assuming they had the capability, how did they get it done so quickly? The mines are miles long, and they had no way of knowing we’d be here.”
“They had time.” The General waves a hand. “Especially since the explosives were rigged on a grid. Looks like the delay you ordered paid off, sir.” Petrov twists to the Supreme Leader.
He stands facing the console, unmasked, his back to the group.
But he doesn’t respond to the General.
He just stands there.
Listening…
“Well,” Russo lets out a sigh. “I suppose it’s possible. We would’ve drawn all the scum to the base this morning, cleared out the mines. Maybe that was all they needed. Who knows?” He purses his lips. “Maybe our benevolence to the slaves is starting to pay off…?”
“Or maybe they just heard about Kaller,” Vaden adds dryly.
“Either way,” Petrov sits up. “I think we’ve learned something today. These slaves…” He taps the table. “Could be useful to us as more than just a publicity stunt. I say we send out a team to the operational camp tomorrow, start questioning them, find out more about—”
“No.” The Supreme Leader turns abruptly. “We have more important matters to attend to.” He begins pacing the room.
“But, sir—”
“Vaden, I want you to start extraction on the East end.” Kylo ignores the General. “Stay away from the operational camp and away from the base.”
“Yes, sir.” The colonel nods. “The teams are ready; the equipment is here. We’ll start at first light.”
“Good.” Kylo continues pacing. “Russo, how long until the camp is ready for intake?”
The younger colonel sighs.
“Definitely not tomorrow.” He widens his eyes. “We barely finished set-up today. These slaves are very uncooperative. My troops had the worst time wrangling them. Half of them kept trying to wander off, refused to—”
“How long, colonel?”
Russo sits up, clearing his throat.
“Three days, sir. Assuming the slaves stay put and follow orders.”
“Make it two,” The Supreme Leader commands curtly.
Russo shrinks a bit.
“Petrov, what’s the latest intel on Ranc’s presence in the Silver?”
“Last I heard…” The General leans forward. “The gang’s headquarters took in only a few from the smaller bases, no more than a hundred. The rest of the scum are holed up in a canyon on the west side of the planet. Sources tell us they’ve got an armory there, but not a large one, nothing that could threaten us.”
“Is the canyon…” The Supreme Leader turns to the General. “Populated with civilians?”  
Petrov purses his lips.
“I…” He starts slowly. “Think there are a few sand tribes nearby. But they stay clear of the armory. Ranc makes certain of that.”
“Good.” Kylo continues pacing. “Then I want you to bury them. Start with a round of aerial assaults in the morning.”
“With pleasure.” The General sits back with a smirk. “And the Silver?”
“Set up a perimeter around the headquarters,” he commands. “And be subtle about it. I don’t want Ranc catching on before we evacuate the city.”
“Yes, sir.” Petrov straightens. “I’ll send in a stealth unit at dawn. I can even send them tonight, if you like.”
“No.” The Supreme Leader stops in front of the console. “There’s only one more thing I want from you tonight. All of you.” He turns to face the men at the table.
They all look at him, ready and alert.
Kylo stares coolly for a moment.
“Get some sleep,” he says finally.
The men visibly relax.
“You’re dismissed.” He turns to the console. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Russo’s shoulders drop in relief.
“Yes, sir.”
The men scoot back from the table, rising and filing swiftly into the hall of the ship.
The door whirs shut behind them.
Kylo listens as their footsteps recede.
He stands, perfectly still, until he hears them fade away.
Then he snatches the comm at his belt, bringing it to his lips.
“What’s the word from 928-C?” He demands.
He lowers the device, waiting.
“He’s on his way, sir.” The response crackles in. “He’ll arrive at the shuttle in five minutes.”
Kylo lets out a long exhale, like he’s been holding it in all day.  
“Clear the ship.” He commands into the comm. “I want everybody out before he gets here. Tell the guard to let Bonden and his guest in, then close the shuttle until morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kylo steps to the right console, setting the comm next to his mask. He pulls off his gloves, casting them on the counter, then turns to the meeting table.
He pulls out a chair, taking a seat slowly, a wave of exhaustion setting in as he does.
But the feeling doesn’t last long.
He sits up, swelling with anticipation, tempered only by a hint of uncertainty.  
For a split second, the image flashes, the last time he saw Rey— her eyes pleading with his, tears streaming down her cheeks.
But he quickly buries the memory, banishing it to the edges of his mind, nothing left but a trace of regret.
He looks down, his jaw twitching.
He hates the way things ended last time he saw her. But it’s not an interaction he’s keen to dwell on.  
So instead, he just wonders what she’ll be like when she sees him, reviewing the possibilities in his mind.
Will she be cold, keeping him at arm’s length?
Not likely, given what he knows about her.
At the very least, she’ll be on guard, her senses heightened.
She’ll take her cue from him.
He takes a deep breath.
It’s been driving him crazy all day, sensing her nearby, wondering, waiting…
He sits back with a sigh, shaking his head briskly, redirecting his thoughts to the only thing that can distract him.
Today was more than a success.
It was a turning point.
Petrov isn’t the only one convinced that the slaves diffused the bombs. He’s been overhearing talk all day— colonels, lieutenants, squad leaders— considering their treatment of the slaves as an investment, their best guard against this new trend of spiteful self-destruction.
He can’t wait for this kind of talk to get back to the Supremacy.
This should shut Hux up, or at least counter all his pissing and moaning about wasting resources.
He drums his fingers on the table.
Yes, today went very well.
The First Order suffered minimal casualties. The varium mines are theirs, practically untouched.
And he must admit… Rey’s team did good work. He never imagined they’d diffuse all the bombs on top of getting the slaves out unharmed.
Things seem to have gone smoothly for them. Most everyone was out of the mines by the end of the battle, and she didn’t run into trouble that affected her vitals. He’s been monitoring them closely the past few days, trying not to think about her stuck underground, surrounded by cutthroats.
She can handle herself. He just needs to keep remembering that.
He was careful to modify the protocol on her tracker, just for the day, keep it from getting picked up by troopers. He can’t have them wondering why a slave is on the First Order’s no kill/ no injury list…  
Yes, everything worked out perfectly.
He leans back in his chair, swelling with satisfaction.
This is it. The first step.
Rey’s ascending, whether she realizes it or not, ascending to the position she was meant to fill.  
A few more of these invasions and she’ll start to see, to recognize the opportunity that lies before her, all she could do with the resources of the First Order at her back.
She’ll start to see what the First Order really is, all it could become with her at his side.
He’ll need to encourage her, listen to her, get her input on improvements— how to make things smoother, faster, better.
And the more they work together, the more she gets a taste of true power—
Suddenly, his thoughts grind to a halt.
He sits up, his senses heightened.
The next instant, he shoots out of his chair, striding to his comm.
“928-C has arrived, sir.”
The announcement comes in just as he snatches the device.
“Let him in.”
He sets the comm on the counter, surging with anticipation.
He turns to the door, clasping his hands behind him.
A minute later, he hears footsteps ascending the ship, followed shortly by the loading ramp closing with a clang.
The sound of chatter wafts down the hall. As the footsteps get closer, he starts to make out the words…
“You’re kidding?” Sylas is saying.
“Nope.” Rey sounds sure of herself, as per usual. “We got out of there in less than a week, took about thirty with us.”
“No way.” He pictures Sylas shaking his head. “No one gets out of the spice mines on Kessel. No one.”
“If you don’t believe me, I’d be happy to introduce you to some of the rescues. They’ll tell you all about it.”
They stop in front of the door.
“Yeah, sure,” Sylas says wryly. “I’ll just drop by a Resistance base, let you show me around.”
“You’re welcome any time.”
Sylas grunts.
The comm crackles as he activates it.  
“This is Sylas Bonden with uh…” He pauses. “A delivery?”
Kylo shakes his head.
He leans over, pressing a panel by the console.  
The door whirs open.
Sylas snaps to attention, his arms going rigid at his sides.
“Sir,” he greets. “Permission to—”
“Granted.”
Sylas nods, then steps into the room.
Rey follows close behind, draped in a brown cloak, lowering the hood as she enters.
“I, uh…” Sylas points to Rey. “Found her.”
“I can see that,” Kylo says evenly. ��Did you have any trouble?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “It was easy. We got stopped by some troopers but Rey just…” He purses his lips. “Kinda…” He squints. “Convinced them to leave us alone.” He waves a hand mysteriously.
Kylo glances at Rey.
She shrugs.
“Good.” He steps forward. “Sylas, you’re done for the day.”
“Are you sure?” He tilts his head. “Because I can still do stuff. I’m not at all tired.” He stifles a yawn as he says this.
Kylo grunts.
“Sylas.” He walks over to him. “Go to bed.” He takes his arm, ushering him to the door.
“Well…” He sighs like he’s conceding. “I guess if you’re sure you don’t need me.”
“I need you…” Kylo takes him into the hall. “To get some sleep. The bunks are yours.” He points to the front of the ship. “Be up at 0600. You’re going back to Borosk in the morning.”
“Oh, good.” Sylas blinks sleepily. “I’ve still got a lot work to do with those pirates.”
“Worry about that tomorrow.” Kylo lifts a hand to his shoulder. “Right now, just focus on getting rest.”
“Ok.” Sylas nods. “I can do that.” He smiles. “Goodnight, sir.”
“Goodnight.” Kylo moves a hand to his back, pushing him forward.  
Sylas makes his way down the hall, Kylo watching as he goes, waiting until he ducks into a room to the left.  
Then he shifts to the conference center.
Rey’s standing next the meeting table, facing the back console, her cloak and pouch draped over a chair.
Kylo walks into the room, pressing a panel on the wall.
Rey turns at the sound of the door.  
She tilts her head, studying him for a moment.
Then, a slow smile creeps across her lips.
The next instant, she lunges forward.
Kylo jerks back, barely reacting in time to catch her as she leaps into his arms, wrapping her legs around him.
She kisses him passionately, then pulls back with a huge grin, absolutely beaming.
“Was it not perfect?” She gushes. “Did everything not go exactly according to plan? Better even?”
Kylo gapes, caught off guard.
“Oh, come on!” Rey goads, dropping to the floor. “We diffused all the bombs. You have to be just slightly impressed, right?” She bounces a little, impatient for a response.
Kylo just stares, adjusting to the shock of the greeting.
Her face falls.
“Are you…?” She shifts a bit. “Are you still upset because—”
“NO,” he practically barks.
She flinches.
“Because…” She squints a little. “I’ve felt just awful since—”
“Rey.” He twitches. “Let’s just…” He takes a short breath. “Drop it. Ok?”
“Ok,” she whispers.
She presses her lips together, a little bruised.
Kylo softens.
He lifts hand to her face, grazing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
She relaxes, a smile returning to her lips.
His fingers caress her skin, then drift to her chin, tilting it up as he descends.
He meets her with a kiss, a lingering one, reveling in the sensation, how just the touch of her sweeps everything away, like a good night’s sleep.  
He pulls back, tracing the curve of her jaw.
“You…” He drops his hand. “Did excellent work today.”
Her face lights up.
“I know!” She bounces. “I mean, it really did go exactly the way we planned.”
He smiles, slipping his hands around her waist.
Read the rest on A03!
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a-very-tail-wizard · 7 years ago
Text
No Sleep Tonight
Rating: MA (smut)
Pairing: Gajevy/Gajeel x Levy
Disclaimer: I don’t own Fairy Tail.
Word Count: 2616
Title: No Sleep Tonight
Description: Gajevy One Shot
Sleepy Levy catches her second wind after a little encouragement from Gajeel. (Basically, smut with a side of romance.)
A/N: I’ve never written fanfiction for Fairy Tail before. Also, I haven’t quite finished the anime, and I haven’t started the manga, so bear with me . Comments are always appreciated. Enjoy!
ffn || ao3
follow up series
Levy
Turning off the light in the bathroom, I pad across the bedroom and climb onto the mattress where I immediately snuggle down under the covers. I’m not in the bed two seconds before Gajeel hooks a muscly arm around my waist and tugs me against him. Instantly, I curl my body into his, rubbing my cheek over his pec.
“Jesus, Levy, why are you so cold?”
“Mmm,” I mumble. “Dunno.”
“You’re like a freaking ice cube! Don’t tell me you were hanging out with Gray again.”
“No,” I tell him softly, my body begging for sleep. “I ran into Juvia while I was out today, but Gray wasn’t with her.”
I yawn, and he reaches over to brush some hair off of my forehead.
“I still can’t believe they’re actually a couple,” he says gruffly.
“I’m not surprised,” I answer drowsily. “Sure, she was a little over the top when you guys first joined the guild, but…she mellowed out after a while. And she’s a great person with a good heart; Gray is lucky to be with her.”
“I’m luckier,” his low voice rasps into my ear, and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach.
I love seeing Gajeel’s sappy, romantic side. Nobody else would believe me, but he’s incredibly sweet when he wants to be.
“You seem really tired tonight, little bean,” he rumbles in that deep voice of his. “Did you do anything out of the ordinary?”
“No,” I murmur. “Just the usual. I don’t know why I’m so sleepy.”
“No book tonight?”
“I can’t keep my eyes open,” I say with a small whine. “And I’m at a really interesting part, too.”
“Poor Little Levy,” he chuckles softly. “You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow I guess.”
“Yeah…” I let my eyelids droop until I hear him let out a sigh. Instantly, I open my eyes to look up at him. “Was there some reason you wanted me to be awake?”
“Oh, you know…” he grunts. “Just wanted to talk to you.”
“Talk?” I blink.
Every once in a while, Gajeel springs these intense intimate conversations on me. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about them, but now we’re so close that nothing is a secret. I’ve shared more with him than I have with anyone, and I know he’s done the same with me. Somehow, though, I don’t think that’s what he has in mind.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask gently.
“Well, see… I have this problem I thought you could help me with…” His large, rough fingers trail up my thigh, and I bite my lip.
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Mm,” he hums.
“So, really, you just want to have sex?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Well, you don’t have to say it like that,” he growls. “I was trying to be classy about it.”
I giggle, and his arm around me tightens as he rolls me onto my back.
“God, Levy, why is it you can read me like one of your books?” he asks in a gravelly voice, his chest hovering over mine.
“Because you’re actually a big softie under all that hard exterior,” I whisper.
“Some parts of me are harder than others,” he counters with a sly grin. “And, at this particular moment, one of them is extremely hard.”
“I bet I can guess which one,” my reply comes out sounding breathy as my inner thigh comes in contact with the body part in question through the fabric of his underwear.
Oh God. It’s so hot.
I reach down and feel him through his boxers, suddenly feeling wide awake.
“Jesus, Levy,” he grunts at my touch, and I feel a rush of wet between my legs.
I move my hand up and then back down, sliding my fingers into his waistband. I let out a soft cry when I feel him, pulsing and rigid against my palm.
He lets out a growl above me, and I look up to see the veins in his neck throbbing from how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. My fingers move on their own, stroking around the tip only to travel down the shaft, rubbing over each tiny barbell in his Jacob’s ladder piercing that runs the length of him.
The first time we had sex, I wasn’t sure what to do with all the hardware down there, but once he slid in, the added rub and pull of it along my inner walls had me crying out in the best way. Now, I’m obsessed with his piercings. All of them, but the ones adorning his cock especially.
“Levy,” he grunts, his lips dropping to my ear. “You’re not playing fair.”
His long hair falls over his broad shoulder and lands on my chest, making my skin look even fairer than normal. I shiver as the silky strands tickle the flesh between my breasts.
“This was your idea,” I remind him, my hand in his pants continuing to squeeze and stroke him.
“Well, yeah, but you’re making it hard–”
“You were already hard,” I interrupt.
He makes a low noise in his throat, and then suddenly, his hand is sliding under the hem of my top and swiftly down into my panties. I let out a soft yelp as his fingers plunge into my slick folds. My body stiffens instantly as his large, calloused digits drag through my wetness.
“Gajeel,” I gasp, but he grins against my neck and rubs harder with his hand, spreading my sensitive lips and finding my clit with his thumb.
I whimper as my back bows off the bed, my legs going rigid. My hand around his dick flexes, and he jerks.
“Careful, little bean,” he rumbles. “I’m just returning the favor.”
I try to think of a response, but I’m panting too hard. His hand sets into a slow, torturous rhythm, moving up and back along my slit. My hand slips out of his boxers and reaches between my thighs to grab his wrist as he presses harder against me.
“Faster, Gajeel,” I plead, tugging on his arm. “Please, baby.”
“Patience.”
His teeth nip at the skin of my shoulder only for his tongue to lap over it, soothing the sting. I spread my legs, and he makes a rumbling sound that I feel everywhere.
Suddenly, two of his enormous fingers slide deep into my pussy, and I moan, burying my face in his neck, my free hand reaching up to grab a fistful of his dark hair.
“Ride my fingers, Levy,” he commands softly.
I release a soft whine as he begins pumping into me. My hips move against him, desperate not to lose his touch. At the same time that he fucks me with his fingers, his mouth begins moving across my skin. Over my collarbone and up my jaw. The studs below his lower lip send delicious chills down my spine as they brush against me. The tip of his nose brushes along the edge of mine, and I hold my breath in anticipation.
Finally, his lips press against the corner of my mouth. I gasp, and he shifts, his gorgeous lips covering mine in a long kiss. I sigh as his pierced tongue glides over mine, the taste of him flooding my mouth. Using my grip on his hair, I hold him against me, nipping his lower lip with my teeth. He grins against my mouth and returns the gesture. I never want to stop kissing him.
He surprises me when he moves again, taking control of the kiss and simultaneously increasing the speed and power of his thrusting fingers. My own clench tight in his hair, and I have to tear my mouth from his, desperately. My body feels feverish and out of control from everything he’s doing to me. The sensations coursing through me are overwhelming.
“Oh God. Oh God,” I choke as my legs begin to quiver.
“Are you close?” he murmurs.
“Mmm,” I whimper my confirmation, and his hand slows, gently pulling out.
My legs squeeze together in its absence, and I wince at the feeling of wet all down my thighs and on the sheet below me.
“Don’t stop,” I hiss at him, trying to pull on his studded forearm.
“You’re tired,” he says in a low tone. “I want to move on to the main event, so you can get some rest.”
“But–”
He cuts me off by forcing my top over my head. I gasp as the cool air of the room causes my already-tingling nipples to tighten into points. He shoves my bottoms off next, leaving me lying naked underneath him.
His hand, still glistening with my juices, drops to my left breast where he rubs his thumb over the swell before rolling the pointed bud between his fingers. I squirm under him, and he looks down at me and grins.
“Go ahead and take me out, Levy,” he says hoarsely.
With a shaky hand, I reach for his boxers again, quickly yanking them down, allowing his angry, red cock to spring free.
“Hurry,” I plead up at him. “I want it.”
“Fuck, Levy,” he laughs. “You’re cute when you’re horny.”
“Shut up, Gajeel,” I groan, reaching for him.
Before I can touch him, he sits back and grabs my knees, forcing them apart. Without hesitating, he shifts his large body between them, his throbbing erection swinging wildly with each of his movements.
He lowers back down until his solid pecs are teasing my painfully stiff nipples. My hands come up to his shoulders while one of his dives into the space between our hips.
I feel the bulging head of his shaft push between my lips, and I take a slow breath. He’s so insanely large…I don’t know if I can take it. He inches in more, and my fingers dig into his skin.
Did he get bigger since last time? And harder? Is he using his dragon slayer magic to alter the state of his cock? Is it actually made of iron?
“Levy…” He lifts his free hand to my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb, the look in his eyes so incredibly gentle.
“I want it,” I repeat on a whisper. “Now, Gajeel.”
He nods, and I grit my teeth as he sinks in.
“Oh! OH!” My eyes squeeze shut in pain and pleasure as the metal of his piercings drag against the tender flesh of my pussy.
“So fucking tight,” Gajeel grunts, and I take deep breaths as I adjust to his immense size.
God. He’s in so deep. Is it always like this? I can feel his balls against my ass. And his cock is so hard and heavy…and hot. It’s burning inside of me.
“I love this feeling,” I confess breathlessly. “You…It hurts so good.”
“Yeah,” he snarls, making it clear his control is slipping.
“I’m okay,” I murmur, sliding my fingers up into his hair. “Go ahead and fuck me.”
He releases an almost animalistic grunt and pulls out rapidly only to slam back into me. I let out a sharp cry and lock my arms around his neck. He continues thrusting fast and hard, his balls slapping against me. My body rocks with his rhythm causing my breasts to slide against his pecs, the friction sending tiny bursts of pleasure through my nipples. My moans get louder and longer each time his giant cock enters me. His own sounds are grunts and groans through gritted teeth. Hearing them only makes me wetter, and I steal a peek only to find the evidence of my arousal coating his hammering cock.
Suddenly, he shifts his weight to one arm planted in the pillow beside my head, and his free hand slides under my ass, lifting me, enabling me to take more of him.
“Gajeel!” I scream at the impossible fullness inside of me.
The friction he’s creating is so intense…like everywhere he touches is hyper-stimulated and pulsing with pleasure. I feel like my pussy is going to explode. And at the same time, my orgasm keeps slipping away. I need to come so bad it hurts, but I just…
I moan in frustration as the Jacob’s ladder grinds against me.
“Are you coming?” he asks sounding strangled.
“No,” I choke, tears forming along the edges of my eyes. “But I’m close.”
“You gotta come, Levy.”
“I…I can’t!” I cry out as the acute burning in my pussy increases.
A growl escapes from his throat, and his head drops to my breast. He begins pumping wildly with his hips, and my breath gets caught in my lungs.
“Come, little bean,” he grinds out as his lips lock around my aching peak, his teeth tugging at my erect nipple.
His cock slams in again, and the compiled sensations of his teeth and his tongue on top of his monster cock finally do it. I come screaming his name, my back arched off the bed, my fingers clenched so tight that I start to lose feeling, tears streaming down my face. All the while, Gajeel continues pounding into me, prolonging my climax. It lasts so long my entire body is trembling from it.
When my scream dies out into desperate whimpers, Gajeel’s thrusts get erratic and pick up in speed. Seconds later, his head flies back as he releases a long groan, and I feel his orgasm pouring into me. When he’s spent, he collapses on my chest, almost crushing me under his weight. However, since I’m still recovering from my own life-changing orgasm, I don’t have the energy to move.
After a few minutes, he rolls off of me, his semi-hard cock sliding out of my raw pussy, leaving me feeling empty. I try to push up on my elbows, but they instantly give out. Instead, I lay there, my legs parted, my pussy leaking a mixture of his come and my own onto the sheets, trying to catch my breath.
“I’ll clean you up,” he breaks the silence hoarsely. “In a minute.”
I give him a tiny nod and close my eyes. I feel him exit the bed and listen as he pulls on fresh boxers and goes into the bathroom where he turns on the tap. It goes off a minute later, and I take a deep breath before I roll onto my side.
“Here,” he rumbles, coming up to my side of the bed holding a wet rag. “Lift your leg.”
He has to help me in the end because my limbs feel like noodles, holding my knee up with one hand as his other wipes our combined wetness from my slit. When he’s finished, he scoops me up and carries me across the room to the futon where he sets me down. I instantly curl onto my side, releasing a slow breath to try to relieve some of the throbbing in my pussy.
“I’m going to change the sheets,” he tells me. “I’ll be fast.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
I feel his lips on my temple, and his hand squeeze my neck gently before he walks away. I must fall asleep because the next thing I remember, he’s helping me into my panties and nightie and carrying me back to our bed.
“Thank you for indulging me,” he murmurs gruffly into my ear.
“Mmm.”
He climbs in with me and pulls the clean sheets up over us.
“I love you, Levy.”
“I love you, too,” I mumble. “Go to sleep.”
I feel his chest move with soft laughter, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he presses his lips to my head, and tucks me close to his side, where I instantly fall asleep.
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Text
Purest Dark
So this is a fairly short story I wrote a couple years back. It’s one of my few original writings, based on a mixture of Fallen London and a fever dream I had back then. I never got around to finishing it because I got really self-conscious of my writing at the time, but I had intended to make a whole book out of it. But I might get back to working on it, in the future. Here it is, just in case anybody’s interested in reading it. And as always, feel free to let me know what you think!
       Since the day I was born, I have never seen the sun. Nobody around me has, nor has anyone for a couple thousand miles. We’ve lived here, underground, cut off from what some say was the surface, for hundreds of years. Not one living soul remembers how we got here, or how to get back. Nobody remembers why, four hundred years ago, we fled beneath the world into the great cave systems we now call the Nightlands.
     Of course, there’s not much need to mull over questions like that, not down here. Asking “how?” or “why?” wastes precious time. Spend most of your time farming, hunting, mining, tending the lights around you. Always keep the lanterns lit. To stay dark is to die.
     Now, that’s not to say we live like barbarians down here. With some work, you can eke out a decent living and have enough to feed and clothe your family, keep your lanterns lit, and still have some left over. Folks in the big cities don’t even have to worry about their own lanterns, with most of that being under the purview of the Lantern Corps.
As for myself, I run a general store in the town of Gravert’s Hollow, a small little stopover on the road between Rockhammer and Coal Port. I inherited the store from my father, and he from his father. It supplies our small little town of two hundred, and feeds the odd caravan or two when they had to make their way southerly. Occasionally some well-lit sightseer wants to catch a ship from Coal Port to see the pitch-black oceans for themselves, in which case we’re more than happy to cut them a deal.
     When the bell rang that day, the man coming in didn’t seem too awful different from any normal customer. Quiet man, a bit on the short and husky side. Seemed a bit jittery, but nothing too unusual from someone who came down the road from Rockhammer, famously ill-lit as it was. His ruffled, brown greatcoat left a faint trail of black dust as he perused the shelves, nervously adjusting his glasses and glancing intermittently at the oil lamps on the walls.
     Feeling I could lighten his mood, I tried to talk to the nervous fellow.
     “Anything I can help you to find, sir?”
     His head jolted in my direction. “Hmm? No, no, thank you. Found the mushroom jam I need right here.”
     I nodded. He walked to the counter, carrying three large jars of our jam. Fresh Ketsbury mushrooms. I totaled up his purchase. Even as I did so, he was looking at the oil lamps, wincing at every slight flicker of the light. I sighed softly.
     “They’ve just been filled, sir. Will last ‘til third cycle tomorrow, at least.”
     He seemed to calm a bit at that, managing to focus long enough to pay me for the jam. As I set the jars into a small basket for him, he produced a beat-up leather book from one of the pockets of his greatcoat, seeming as though he didn’t want to look at it.
     “Listen,” he spoke softly, “d’you know anyone who deals with books?”
     I paused, surprised.
     “Umm… McLaverty’s Bookstore just down the road.”
     “You know him?”
     “Of course.”
     The nervous man nodded. “Please take this book to him. I can’t stand to keep the damn thing one more minute. Nobody in my business wants anything to do with it.”
     “I see. I understand, sir. I’ll take it to him right away.” When I laid my hand on the book, he immediately grabbed my wrist, whispering again.
     “Listen. Please. Don’t open it. Don’t read it. There’s some things about our dark little world we don’t need to know. Now, I know what you’re thinking, so I’ll tell you this. It’s an expedition journal. That’s all you need to know.”
     He stared into my eyes intently, refusing to look away until I nodded.
     “I won’t read it, sir.”
     With that, he nodded, turning for the door.
     “Before you go, sir… Where are you going now?”
     He stopped, holding the door handle and seeming to shudder as he thought of something unpleasant. Without turning back to me, he spoke.
     “I’m catching a boat to the Salt Coast. I want to get as far north as possible.” Before I could say another word, he hurried out the door.
I sighed again, taking a look at the book on my counter. It was a fairly unassuming thing, a decently thick book bound in carved, dark brown leather. The word “Journal” struck out from the front cover. I turned to the very first page, breaking my word almost immediately.
“From the hand of Jacob Pellon,
An Account of the Expedition Most-South
Led by Thomas Magrath and Cole Stockton”
Something seemed… Off, about that. I had heard about the Magrath-Stockton Expedition quite a few months ago. A couple caravans from Rockhammer talked about it. Not much word came up our way, after that. A month or so ago, there were some real hush-hush rumors that the expedition ran into something… Unpleasant. Especially seeing as how word came up quick that all but three of the explorers never returned to town, and the three who did weren’t in any state to talk much.
Before I read any further, I closed the book and tucked it under my arm. Outside, muffled, I could hear the town’s bell ring. The twentieth time today, signaling the start of Third Cycle. Time to lock my store and head home.
I checked the mountings for my oil lamps, made sure they were full. Kept the shelves as full as I could. Locked the door behind me as I left.
As I stepped out onto the lamp-lit stone street, I decided to make my way to McLaverty’s Bookstore. It was a few hundred feet south along the main street. It occurred to me that the nervous gentleman would have to have passed the store as he came to mine. Something about his demeanor, and something about the book I held in my hand, told me he wasn’t thinking straight.
Now, at this hour, the bookstore is staffed by the third shift, a small group of teenagers working off some perceived debt to their parents. It was one of the few places in town that was always open, even if Ephraim McLaverty himself was rarely at the sales desk these days.
I frequented the bookstore, so the employees knew me by name. One of them, a pale girl from one of the mining families, saw as I came in.
“Howdy, Mr. Pembroke. Looking for anything new today?”
I shook my head. “Is Mr. McLaverty upstairs?” He lived in an apartment built above his bookstore. She nodded in response.
“Yessir. Headed up about one bell-ring ago.”
The teens quietly resumed their chatting as I mounted the well-lit stone stairs to the second story. Ephraim McLaverty was a friend of my father, and made his home welcome to me no matter the time. I knocked on his door.
He wasn’t exactly a young man, now approaching his sixtieth year, so it took him some time to answer. The heavy cave-wood door creaked open, and the elder bookstore owner peeked around, peering at me through thick glasses.
“Ah, Marshall… Come in, come in. I just made mushroom tea, would you like some?”
“Thank you, Ephraim. But I’ll pass.” I stepped into the living room. Even this far from a large city, McLaverty knew how to get his hands on books. His living room resembled a homelier version of the bookstore downstairs, with an identical pair of leather chairs situated between rows and rows of shelves. I took my seat in one, and he in the other.
“So what brings you here at this hour, my boy?” He sipped some of his tea. McLaverty only drank Peterswort tea, made from a mushroom revered for its medicinal properties despite tasting absolutely putrid.
I handed him the journal.
“Fella came in half a bell-ring ago. Gave me this. Said it was an expedition journal. Something to do with the Magrath-Stockton Expedition.”
Ephraim’s weak eyes widened with intrigue. He inquired if the man spoke any specifics about it. I shook my head.
“Didn’t say anything about it. He was real jittery, I mean real jittery. Kept looking at the lamps like they were about to go out. And he specifically told me not to read the journal, just told me to give it to a book guy like yourself.”
The elderly bookkeeper began thumbing through the wrinkled pages, his eyes darting to and fro with a speed more suited to a younger man. After a few minutes, he paused, quietly closing the journal.
“Hmm…” Ephraim gently stroked his sizable sheet-white moustache. “Go ahead and leave it here for a couple o’ days. I’ll take a look at it.”
I thanked him for his help. With a thankful handshake, I went on my way, exiting McLaverty’s apartment, then his bookstore, sending a farewell to the employees inside. The door bell jingled as I opened it, stepping onto the frigid streets outside.
-----------------------------------------------------------
The following week was uneventful. Eventually, I returned to McLaverty’s shop, rather concerned. The teens working the Third Cycle shift told me that Ephraim hadn’t left his house in that time, except to order employees to buy more lamp oil.
I walked up the stone steps to his apartment.
“Ephraim!” I rapped the door. “Ephraim, it’s Marshall! Can you let me in?”
Several minutes passed. I called out again, interrupted by the sound of locks clicking. Ephraim stood before the door as it opened.
“Come in, come in my boy.” He ushered me inside, closing the door after I stepped in. I slipped my shoes off, leaving them at the side of the fireplace sitting front-and-center in his living room. A fresh pot of mushroom tea brewed quietly above the fire.
“So, Ephraim… Is there anything new you can tell me about the journal I gave you?”
“Of course, of course, but be patient.” He took a fair bit of time making a cup of tea. This time, I indulged his offer of my own cup, feeling rather parched. We both took seats in his lavish armchairs.
“Now, Marshal, the journal.” He produced it from a coat pocket, passing it into my hand. “A fascinating read, to be sure. Though I’m not quite sure what to make of it all.”
“What do you mean?” I inquired, sipping the tea and recoiling at the foul taste. Though I was very thirsty, so I continued to drink it.
     “Some of the details of this journey make note of symbology and mysticism in which I am no expert, and I won’t claim to understand all of it. For all my reading and scholarship, I am a botanist and wordsmith. Mythology is not my area of expertise.”
     “Well, is there anything specific you can tell me about what you read?” I started to really dislike the taste of the tea, but I was already committed to finishing the dreadful cup of drink.
     “It’s much the same as any explorer’s journal I’ve ever read. Magrath and Stockton, two very close friends, wanted to see how far South our little world goes. They started gathering supplies and people in the city of Ambrose.”
     Ambrose is one of the larger cities in the Nightlands, sitting comfortably between a series of iron mines and oil wells, a port, and a cave-oak forest. It was an ideal place for shipping and receiving supplies, as its port connected to the ocean that ran along the Eastern Undercoast. It came as no surprise that a pair of wealthy explorers would shore up their numbers there.
     “To skip the boring logistical information and uneventful travelling, I’ll tell you that they headed south from Dusk’s End.”
I remained silent. Dusk’s End was more than a thousand miles south of here, and was the last stop before one arrived into the Deep South. I’ve heard tell of dangerous things that live in the dark past that city. He went on to detail some of what he read, skipping over parts that seemed of no use.
“… Though,” He began to conclude, “I believe that Jacob Pellon, the man who wrote this book, went a bit mad during the journey. I’m afraid it gets more and more disjointed as it goes on, or at least that’s how it seems to me. He does make quite many references to the Hitch, in the later pages of the book. Includes some primitive symbols that are vaguely reminiscent of what I’ve seen are used today by the Heywood Disciples.
“Like I said, I’m no expert in religion and mythology. Frankly, I believe they’re one and the same, most days.” A viewpoint I personally happened to share. “However, I do know a man who is. An old friend of mine, lives down in Ambrose. He’s an expert on all things Heywoodite, knows their history like it was his own. He’d be able to better elucidate what all this talk means. Marshall, my boy… Care to do old Ephraim a favor, and bring this book to him?”
My eyes widened, and not just because I finally finished the last of the damn mushroom tea.
“You really mean it, sir?”
He nodded, smiling.
“I know you’ve never been outside of Gravert’s Hollow, as I know you always wanted to do. And nearing twenty-three, you’re still plenty young. You’re more able to make the trip than I am,” seeing the look on my face, he stopped me. “and don’t worry. I’ll have my best employees watching your store while you’re gone. Believe me, if your father had the chance himself, he would’ve done the same.”
I hugged the elder bookkeeper, beaming with an energy I hadn’t had in a while. I thanked him profusely for the opportunity.
Eventually, we had to part ways, and I made my way to my own house, book in hand, ready for what would come next.
It was the same house I’d lived in my entire life. A small, two-bedroom affair up the road from the General Store, halfway between it and a small restaurant that dealt in freshly-hunted cuisine. You could always smell the restaurant before you could see it, since most of the animals dwelling in the dark stank like the dickens – A smell similar to a mixture between fish and musk.
Today was definitely the fourth day of the week, as that was the day they served cave-cattle, six-legged blind creatures that, while usually found wild, could also be tamed for use as pack animals. They also smelled horrendous when cooked, which meant that I fumbled for my house key with one hand and clamped the other hand across my face. Getting inside provided some much-needed relief from the smell, though it still pervaded everything.
My house was fairly well-lit, with an oil lamp on each wall in the living room / kitchen combination. I tended to all seven lamps in the house before beginning preparations for my journey. In two days, as per usual, a trade caravan would come down from Coal Port on the return trip to Rockhammer. I’d be joining them as they left.
This meant travelling on the Casper Trail, a poorly-maintained road that ran the forty-or-so miles between towns.
I packed a fair bit of supplies, even though the trip with a decent caravan should only take a day or two. Four jars of jam, a loaf of black peasant bread, dried mushrooms, and salted cattle jerky. I packed four days’ worth of clothes, including a leather greatcoat my father wore for hunting. A hand lantern and three cans of oil, topped with handles for being clipped to a rucksack.
Lastly, I grabbed my father’s blunderbuss, mounted above the hearth in the living room. It was a flintlock gun, with a brass barrel and smooth-finished cave-oak stock. Along with it was a still-dry powderhorn of black powder, and a bag with two or three pounds of lead shot, both of which I made sure to pack.
Once everything was ready, I took to my bed.
Right on time, two days later, the caravan sidled into town to stop for supplies. I let one of Ephraim’s workers, now manning my store, assist them with that.
The whole group consisted of two large wooden carriages, each pulled by a team of four adult cave-cattle. All four sides of the carriages were mounted with lanterns, and the left and right sides each had three circular murder-holes for firing at anything outside of the wagon. The caravan was commanded by the driver of the lead wagon, a gruff, old man by the name of Shamal. I’d met him before, enough times for him to know my face.
“Marshall, isn’t it?” He asked as I approached, my large rucksack on my back.
“That’s correct.”
“What’s with the pack?”
“I’ve got a proposition for you, good sir.” I put on my best salesman voice.
“Let me guess… You’ve got to go somewhere, correct?” I nodded in response. “And you’ll pay your way to get there, right?” Another nod. I had planned on spending money anyway. The older man smirked.
“That’s perfectly fine by me. I don’t see enough new faces on these roads as it is. It’d be good to have some fresh blood with us.”
He instructed me to set my belongings inside the lead carriage. It was very cramped, filled with everything from food to bullets. Up towards the front was a trio of small cots bolted to the floor, enough to have three people sleeping while the remaining three continued to run the carriage.
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